


I Will Always Find You

by lordfartquad



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordfartquad/pseuds/lordfartquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cami receives devastating news, her world begins to spin out of control. And in this heartbreaking and confusing time, only one person has the power to keep her from herself. Klamille (despite a misleading first chapter ;P),</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I had a great time tonight, Cami." He smiled at her and she felt her stomach tighten in anticipation, and her skin flush. Tiny goosebumps pricked up along her arms. Words came to the tip of her tongue, and she had to concentrate in order to let them past her lips. "Do you want to come up?"

Again, he smiled at her and she felt shaken to her very center, like she might just melt into a puddle at his feet. And she felt so pathetic for feeling that way. "Sure," he said.

Her fingers fumbled on her keys as she tried to unlock the front door to her apartment complex, finally getting it open after what she felt was an embarrassingly long amount of time. It had been so long since she'd invited someone up, since she'd even kissed anyone. And he was so cute, and she knew that he had been eyeing her for a long time.

In silence, they walked up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. He waited patiently as she again struggled with her keys to get the apartment door open. She gave him a sheepish smile when she finally got it unlocked, holding it open for him to step inside.

As she turned on the lights, she cursed herself, knowing she should have cleaned better. There were still a few scattered articles of clothing lying on her bedroom floor, and the sink was full of dirty dishes. Should she apologize? Should she say anything at all? She felt her palms get sweaty; she just kept repeating Calm down, it's no big deal, in her head, hoping that if she said it enough times that it would become true.

She thought of the last man who had been in her apartment, she was sure it had to have been Klaus, the time he had snuck in uninvited and they had argued about boundaries. And now Will Kinney was standing in her apartment, looking around, taking it all in. "Do you want a drink?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound even.

"Sure, whatever you got is fine," Will said, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Ok, come on in then, you can sit down, make yourself at home, I'll be right back," she said, dropping her purse in her room before walking into the kitchen. As she took glasses down from the cupboard, she noticed her hands shake slightly, and she wasn't sure she knew a way to stop it. Adrenaline was pumping through her because now she knew for sure that something would happen between them, it was just a waiting game. And sometimes she felt the build-up, the wondering how it would happen and what would be said and where it would be, was just as exciting to her as the act itself.

She sensed him come into the kitchen, turning around to give him a shaky smile. "Do you need any help?" he asked.

She studied his expression carefully, trying to decide if he genuinely thought she needed help, or if he was just looking for an excuse to come into the kitchen. His face gave no strong indication one way or the other, but then again she didn't really know him well enough to be able to read him like that yet.

In a split second, she thought to herself, F*ck it. It didn't matter whether he really wanted a drink or not, it didn't matter whether he really had wanted to help her make one or not, she didn't want to wait any longer. Cami was never one for holding back when she wanted something, anyway.

Will was only a few feet away, and she stepped up to him, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and pulling his face to hers. The kiss was mismatched at first, with Cami wanting to go fast while he still stood there, seemingly stunned by her ferocity. But after a long moment, he began to kiss her back, his hands winding around her waist and holding her to him.

Cami's head was swimming, and she felt like she couldn't breathe to save her life. It was like she'd been thrown into the deep end of the pool and didn't know how to swim. Her legs felt like they might give out, her whole body was seeming to shake. She took in every sensation he was giving her, the warmth of his mouth against hers, the faint scent of his cologne, the roughness of the stubble on his chin against her skin.

She felt herself moving backwards as he pressed forward, boosting her up onto the kitchen counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he gripped her hips, his hands balled up in the fabric of her dress. Could he feel how badly she wanted him? His lips moved away from hers to run along the smooth skin of her neck, and she let out a small moan in spite of herself.

Pulling back, he looked up at her with that same smile he'd given her when she'd asked him to come up, and she felt she could not stand to have him look at her like that. Like she had put the stars in the sky, and like he was so smug at how easily he was turning her on.

Cami felt herself being lifted off the counter, Will's strong arms securing her legs around him so that she knew he was going to carry her. She buried her lips in his neck, planting small kisses all over, her teeth grazing his ear. He took her into her room, setting her on the bed. "Turn around," he said softly.

She did as she was told, sitting on the bed with her legs tucked under her, facing away from him. She felt her shoes lift away from her feet as he took them off, setting them on the floor, and then setting his own beside them once he took them off.

Once again, she felt her skin break out into goosebumps when she felt his hands against the nape of her neck, moving her hair over her shoulder. Cold air hit the skin of her back as he unzipped her dress, pushing it open and over her shoulders. Lightly, Will placed a kiss on each shoulder blade before she stood up, letting the dress fall to her ankles. When he kissed her on the mouth again, she felt no nerves this time, only a blankness in her mind that left room for only physical sensation.

He sat her back down on the bed, climbing on top of her, his hands running all along her body. Again, her fingers felt clumsy and heavy as they fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Finally she got all of them undone, pushing it off his shoulders as he discarded it on the floor next to her dress. She tugged at the hem of his undershirt until he pulled it over his head and added it to the pile of clothes on her bedroom floor.

His skin was so warm against hers, and she felt herself needing him closer, her fingernails running along his back to pull his hips into her harder. She sat up as he unhooked her bra, his hands running over her breasts, and she let out a soft moan.

He kissed along her neck, one hand in her hair while the other traveled lower, gliding once over her panties. She moaned louder this time, hoping it would encourage him to do it again and soon, because she wasn't sure she could endure much more foreplay.

After a long moment, his hand came back, pressing strongly against her while he kissed her deeply.

If she had just moaned a little louder, maybe they wouldn't have heard it and could've kept on going. "What's that sound?" Will asked, pulling back, his hand stilling.

Cami listened intently for a second, trying to calm her breathing. In the darkness, she heard a faint buzzing. "My phone, someone must be calling," she said after a moment, recognizing the pattern of the buzzing.

"Do you want to answer it?"

"I have a few other things I'd much rather be doing," she said, smiling at him coyly.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Will said with an equally devilish smile, one eyebrow raised.

Silence once again filled the room as the buzzing stopped, and she pressed her lips to his once more. Her hands ran all along his back before reaching around to the front of him to undo his belt buckle and fly. She pushed his pants over his hips and he kicked them the rest of the way off.

The sound of heavy breathing was interrupted for a second time by the faint vibrations of her phone. He stopped again, pulling back to look at her. "Ignore it," she said.

"You sure?"

"Positive." She kissed him again, her tongue exploring his mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair. His hand slipped beneath her underwear, his fingers slipping inside her as she moaned loudly, her head rolling back against the pillow. Her own hand dipped below the waistband of his boxers, stroking his hard length.

And the phone kept on buzzing. He stopped moving, his hand withdrawing from her panties as he rolled off her. "I hate to say this, but I really think you should answer it."

"No, no, I only want to focus on being with you," she said, hoping she didn't sound as whiny to him as she did to herself.

"This is the third time they've called," Will said. "I think it's important, someone is obviously trying to get a hold of you. We can pick up where we left off, promise."

She sighed in exasperation, wishing she could just keep on ignoring the phone and get right back to where they'd left off right now, because it had felt so good.

Caller ID said it was her Aunt Peg, and she felt her heart sinking. He was right, someone really was trying to get a hold of her. And she hadn't heard from Aunt Peg since Kieran had died; they never talked. Peg wouldn't be calling, at this hour of night especially, if there wasn't something wrong.

She picked up just before it went to voicemail. "Aunt Peg?"

The conversation only lasted less than two minutes, but she could not remember a single word from it. When she said, "I'll be on a plane first thing in the morning," it didn't feel like her saying it, it felt so mechanical. When she hung up the phone, it was as if someone else was controlling her movements, someone using a joystick to make her finger hit the Disconnect button, to make her set her phone down on the nightstand.

Will was looking at her, concerned, but she seemed to stare right through him as if he wasn't even there. "Is everything alright?"

Again, when she spoke, the words felt mechanical and detached, like someone else was saying them for her. "My grandmother just died."


	2. Leavetaking

In the moments that followed, it was like everything completely shut off inside her. Her body became a shell that only moved because a backup generator kicked in and went on autopilot when her normal functions failed.

Will kept trying to get her attention. "Are you okay? Wait, of course you're not. But do you need some help? Packing? I…what can I do?" he finally stammered, seeming to have trouble with normal functions too.

Cami was racing around the room, picking up her clothes, putting them back on sloppily, stepping over to the desk in the corner of her room and opening her laptop. "I have to take the first flight to Chicago in the morning."

"Cami," he said, but she didn't hear him. "Cami, please tell me what I can do." She didn't look away from her computer, didn't even register that he'd said anything. He walked over to her, putting his hand on her forearm. "What can I do?"

She looked down at his hand on her arm in shock, as if he were hurting her with his grip. And then she looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since she'd gotten the news. "I need you to go," she said quietly.

He looked down, disappointed apparently. "I can do that. But will you call me sometime tomorrow, just to let me know you're okay?"

She looked away from him, focusing again on her computer as she went to the airline website and began filling out her payment information. The flight was in four hours, and then she would be in Chicago, where the family would be getting together for the reading of the will, the wake, and the funeral.

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet with resignation and sadness. "I hope to hear from you, then. I'm really sorry." She heard a faint rustling as he gathered his clothes and put them on, and then left.

Deafening silence filled her ears, and as soon as she had bought the plane tickets, she stood back from the desk and started frantically to throw clothes into a weekend bag. If she took a second to slow down, to think, she was sure she would self-destruct. There was no time now for sleep, or for talking to Will, or to even sit down, just time to keep moving in the hopes that doing so would make the hurting stop. That doing so would make it not real.

When she'd thrown together everything she might need for the next…she wasn't sure how long she'd be away…she started to arrange and rearrange them in the bag, carefully and meticulously folding the clothes, fitting her toiletries into her case like tetris tiles.

Her thoughts raced at a million miles a second. If I just keep moving then it will be time to call a cab and then I'll be at the airport and then I'll go through security and then I'll buy magazines in the terminal and then I'll be on the plane and then I'll be in Chicago and I'll get a hotel and if I just try hard enough then I'll be back here before I even register that she… Cami wouldn't let herself finish the thought.

She went into the kitchen and poured herself a shot of bourbon. She was still a little buzzed from having drinks with Will, but it was wearing off and she felt she needed more, she needed not to feel. Coming back into her room, she decided the way her clothes were folded and arranged in her bag wasn't good enough, tearing them all out in a frenzy and starting from scratch.

Her clothes had just been refolded when she heard her phone buzz on the nightstand. She jumped up in a panic, rushing over, hoping it was Aunt Peg calling again. She wasn't sure what she expected, perhaps hoping beyond hope that her aunt wanted to say it was a false alarm, Grandma was just sleeping very deeply and they didn't check her pulse carefully, they just assumed wrong. But it was a text from Will. If you ever need to talk, I will be there for you. Please text or call if you feel up to it.

"Up to it," she repeated aloud. What was that supposed to mean? Why wouldn't she be up to it? If anything, she wouldn't avoid talking to him because she wasn't feeling up to it, she would avoid talking to him about it because it wasn't his business. She felt furious that even thought she would go to him to talk about this. If anyone, it would be Kl-

She cut that thought off abruptly; now was not the time. She deleted the text, noting for the first time how late— or rather, early, depending on the perspective— it was. Three in the morning. If she could just figure out a way to stall a little longer, it would be time to get in a cab and go to the airport.

She dipped into the kitchen and took another shot, and then decided to take a shower. Taking off her clothes for the second time that night, she stepped into the water, leaving it on the hottest setting it would go. She wanted to wash Will off of her. It wasn't that she regretted being with him, it was just the timing. While her grandmother was taking her last breaths, Cami was letting Will take her shirt off. As her grandmother was dying, Cami was wishing that Will would be inside her. And for that, she felt a dirty shame that coated her skin, a coating that didn't feel like it was washing away with the scalding hot water.

And so she stayed in the shower until her skin was raw and red and tender to the touch. She couldn't remember if she had actually used any soap or shampoo or anything, and when she wiped her face on a towel, black streaks of mascara stained the fabric. She didn't care. She wouldn't even put any Shout stain remover on it or anything, it just didn't matter. It didn't matter if there was still mascara all over her face, she just didn't want to look at herself.

While the mirror was still fogged, she took a face wipe and swiped all over her face, hoping that would get rid of the runny makeup, but knowing that she would not double check before leaving the house.

Opening the door to the bathroom, the cooler air of the rest of the apartment hit her like a wall, sending a massive chill through her. Goosebumps broke out over her skin, much like they had at the beginning of the night, but now they returned for a very different reason.

She retreated into her room and pulled a random assortment of clothes from her drawers and put them on numbly. Picking up her phone, she looked up a number for a cab and called. "I need a ride to Louis Armstrong, please," she said. She gave the driver her address and was told a car would be there to pick her up in about fifteen minutes, and to please be waiting outside. When she said thank you, it didn't feel like she was speaking, it still felt like she had completely left her own body and was somewhere else, that someone else was inside this body, operating it for her.

Zipping up her bag, she checked around the apartment one last time to make sure she wasn't forgetting something vitally important. But she had clothes, and she had toiletries, she wasn't sure she needed anything else. She just wanted to waste more time.

The cab would supposedly be there in two minutes. She was about to step outside to wait for it when she changed her mind on her way to the door. Instead, she went back into the kitchen and took another shot of bourbon, wishing that she could drink the whole bottle right then. But she knew if she had too much she would be sick on the plane. Being sober on a plane made her feel sick enough as it was, she didn't need to add drunkenness to the mix.

Mentally she ran over her packing list as she headed towards the door again. Clothes, check. Soap, check. Makeup, check. Brush, check. Phone, check. Laptop, check. Chargers, check. Wallet, check. That's everything she could think of that she knew she needed, she hoped she wouldn't need anything else. Feeling like she had everything, she stepped out of the apartment once she'd turned off the lights, and locked the door behind her.

The cab pulled up to the curb about a minute after she'd stepped outside. On the ride to the airport, the driver tried to talk to her. "Got a redeye, huh?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

"Got a business trip or something?"

"Not exactly," Cami said. And she didn't elaborate, and the cabbie didn't ask.

Once at the airport, she went to the kiosk inside the doors and checked in to her flight, printing the boarding pass. Gate B7. She looked up for signs to point her in the right direction and started walking towards her gate, taking in the motley crew of other people who were at the airport at four thirty in the morning. Everyone looked exhausted; she was sure she did, too.

It was mostly people in business attire, although she did see a large group of high-school-aged kids congregated around a seating area, also looking dead tired like everyone else, and yet still being exceedingly loud and obnoxious.

Security was always a hassle, but it was better considering that there were so few people around. It also helped that all the TSA agents looked just as miserable as she did. Not a single one smiled at her, and she liked that, because she didn't have to fake a smile back for them.

Eventually, she came upon her gate, situating herself in front of a tv that was blaring the news. She was only able to sit still for a few minutes, however, and got up, going to the McDonald's that was a few gates down. Again, the people working there didn't smile at her, and she didn't smile back, and she ordered something she didn't actually remember ordering until they handed the bag to her and she was saying thank you.

When she sat down again at the gate, she didn't feel hungry, she really wasn't sure why she'd ordered the food, perhaps just to have something to do. Taking a bite, it tasted like an ashtray, and she decided she could not endure another bite. She stood and tossed it in the trash before heading to the nearest newstand/snack shop, browsing the magazines and trashy books that it offered. In the end, she picked out a few different things before going back to the gate.

Cami lost herself in the words inked on the pages of the magazines she bought. Reading about What Shade of Red Lipstick Goes With Your Skintone and Bedroom Tips That Will Drive Him Wild made her forget where she was, and why she was there.

"Attention passengers of flight 985A, we will now begin boarding starting with our first class passengers." She hadn't even registered that it was her flight until the guy sitting across from her stood, straightened his tie and jacket, and rolled his suitcase away towards the open boarding door.

After another few minutes, they called for their coach passengers, and she stood, tucking her reading materials under her arm, picking up her bag. The airline worker scanned her boarding pass and she walked down the long boarding tunnel. Her seat was easy to find, and she put her bag in the overhead compartment, only keeping her phone and a sweater with her. People were still filing in to their seats, but so far the one next to her was still empty. It remained so as the doors closed up, the pilot made an announcement on the PA system, and the plane began to move. At least now she could stretch out and maybe sleep a little.

The pilot said it should take two hours and thirty-four minutes to land in Chicago, having them arrive at eight fifty-eight local time. The last thing she remembered before closing her eyes and dozing off was the flight attendant asking if she wanted anything to drink. And when she woke up, the pilot was saying, "Flight Attendants, please prepare for landing."

As the plane descended, she looked out the window over the city, over the skyscrapers and Lake Michigan. She hadn't been here since she was probably fifteen, and she had to think hard about why she had even gone then. It was to visit her father, she decided finally. He had moved there after her parents had divorced, while her mother had stayed in New Orleans for a little while longer before moving to Dallas. She realized now that she should have called him, if only to see if he would pick her up from the airport. But now that she thought of it, he hadn't called her. His mother had just died, and he didn't think to call her? Then again, they had never been all that close.

The plane landed, she got off and stepped out into O'Hare, finding it much busier than Louis Armstrong. People were bustling around, walking quickly, and she wanted to keep up, if only to outrun her thoughts. Once outside, she raised her hand in the air, flagging down a cab. "Where to?"

"Wilmette," she said.

"Got an address?"

"No, just the first hotel we happen upon once we get in town." The cab peeled away from the curb, and started the half-hour long drive to the northern suburb of the city. The first hotel they came upon once in Wilmette was some mediocre chain, but she figured it really wouldn't make a difference if she stayed in a dump or a five star hotel. Either way, it still didn't change the reason she was there. She paid the cabbie, and then went inside to the front desk of the hotel, booking herself a room for the next two nights. "I'm not sure how long I will be in town," she told the clerk. "If I need to extend my stay by a night or two, can I do that?"

"Yes, of course," the clerk said, handing her a key card. "Enjoy your stay." Cami knew there was no chance of that happening, but appreciated the platitude anyway.

The room was as she expected, musty smelling, full of expected furniture and ugly paintings on the wall. But it was somewhere to stay, and that's all that mattered. She set her bag down on the bed, taking her phone out of her pocket, dialing Aunt Peg's number. She got voicemail. "I've just gotten into town, let me know when you want me to come over or what I should do. Text me or call me back, either way."

After a few minutes of debating, she dialed her father's number. Again, she got voicemail. "Hi, Dad. It's…Camille. I'm in town for…Grandma. I'm sure I'll see you at one thing or another. But if you want to call me before then…you can." It was awkward and choppy and stilted, but she wasn't sure what to say.

She collapsed back on the bed on top of the covers, trying not to think about how filthy the comforter was. And she fell asleep.

The buzzing of her phone woke her up an hour and a half later. Aunt Peg had texted her. Wake is tomorrow 2-5, funeral is next day at noon. Where r u staying?

She texted the name of the hotel chain. The one by the Dunkin Donuts, she added.

Cami read and reread what Aunt Peg had texted, and it sunk in that there would be nothing important to do for the next sixteen hours. Panic started to set in, her stomach roiling, and she paced around the room. She needed to find something, anything to do to occupy her mind, anything to keep reality away. The walls of the room seemed to be moving closer to her, closing in, threatening to collapse, and she couldn't breathe. She had to get out of there.

She grabbed her wallet, her phone, and the key card, and hurried out of the room. She didn't know where she was going to go, she just had to get outside where there was plenty of air to fill her lungs. Once she was outside, she started walking, not sure where she was going, not even paying attention. If I just keep going…

Cami walked for hours, she walked along streets with strip malls, through residential neighborhoods, past schools and churches and cemeteries. And she didn't pay attention to any of it at all, it all passed by in a numb blur. By the time she took a second to stop and take in her surroundings, she had no idea where she was. She pulled up the maps application on her phone, typing in the address of her hotel and seeing how far she was from it. Eight and a quarter miles, it told her. And it was almost two in the afternoon, she'd been walking for hours. She turned around and headed in what she hoped to be the direction she'd came from, using the app on her phone to help guide her.

By the time she got back to the hotel, it was almost five o'clock, and the sun was going down. The air was getting chillier by the minute, but she barely felt it, she barely felt anything. As she approached her room, she noticed a piece of paper sticking out from the door above the handle.

Taking it from the crack of the door, she saw it was an envelope with her name on it. Ms. Camille O'Connell. In formal black lettering. She unlocked the door, stepping in to the room before opening the large envelope and extracting the papers from within.

"I, Saoirse O'Connell, of 37 Maple Ave, Wilmette, IL, declare that this is my last will and testament…" it read.

Cami's stomach dropped. No, I can't read this, I can't read this, she thought. Because if she read it, that would make everything real, and she wasn't ready for that. And so she stuffed the papers back in the envelope.

Her phone buzzed. "Hi, Aunt Peg."

"We're having dinner at the house," she said, "if you want to come."

"No, no, I've already got dinner plans," she lied.

She was sure her aunt could see through it too, but didn't push. "Alright, well there will be leftovers if you change your mind."

"Thanks," Cami said. "Hey, you haven't heard from my dad, have you?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Hold on just a second," she said, her voice low and hushed. "I have to go to the other room."

Cami waited patiently for her aunt to move. "He was sitting right next to me," she said.

"Okay…so what's going on?"

"He's not very happy with you," Aunt Peg said.

"Why?"

"Did you read the will?"

"No," Cami said.

"Read it, and then call me back."

The line went dead, and her stomach began to churn. She was just going to have to do it, get it over with, and then see what her dad's problem was. He was probably just upset he didn't get the fine china or Waterford crystal or something.

Once again, she pulled the papers from the envelope, trying to scan them as lightly as possible. Maybe the less she read, the less it would make it real. There was a lot of legal jargon she could skip over, at least. But she looked through the whole thing, and she wasn't quite sure she had caught on to whatever was upsetting her dad.

So she read it again, and then a third time, still not getting what the problem was. And then it dawned on her that nothing had caught her eye about it because her dad's name was not in there at all. He had been cut out.

And in one of the very last paragraphs, she saw her own name. To my granddaughter Camille O'Connell, I leave the vacation house in Kiowah Island, South Carolina.

Her fingers were numb as she fumbled with her phone. Aunt Peg picked up after the first ring. "What is this?" Cami asked.

"Did you read the will?"

"Yes, and I want to know what this is," she practically shouted.

"Well, it's pretty obvious once you sift through the legalese."

"Okay, okay, so I just want to make sure I'm understanding. Grandma didn't give Dad anything, and she leaves me an entire six million dollar beach house."

"That about sums it up, yeah," Peg said.

"But why?"

"Do I really have to spell it out, Camille? You're so smart, but sometimes you're so daft. Your parents got divorced, and it broke Mom's good ol' Irish Catholic heart. She couldn't take it. So she cut them out of the will. But she always loved you. She always used to say what a shame it was that you were cursed with such 'sinners' for parents— her words, not mine. She didn't think your father deserved to get anything after the divorce, but she didn't think you should be punished for, what she deemed in her mind, their mistakes."

"But what if I don't want it? I haven't been to the house since I was twelve," Cami said. "Can't I just give it to Dad? If he's this mad at me, then it's obvious he wants the house. He can just have it."

"That's not what your grandmother wanted," Peg said. "She specifically wanted for you to have it, and purposely left your father out. I know this is complicated, I know this is stressful and will make things awkward between you and him, but please…it's right there in black and white, what she wanted. Please respect that."

Cami wasn't sure what to say after that. She heard some shuffling in the background, some muffled words in what sounded like her father's voice. "Is that Camille? I want to speak with her?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Liam."

"I want to speak with her," her father said, this time his voice coming through more clearly.

"We've all been through a lot in the past day or two, you should just…." she heard her aunt say, but she was cut off, and there was a brief bit of rustling before her father's voice was strong and angry on the other end of the line.

"Camille."

"Dad, I—"

"I'd better not see you tomorrow or at the funeral."

"Dad, she was my grandmother, I think we can set aside our differences for a few hours-" she said.

"You've upset the entire family. We all loved that house, it's not just that I didn't get anything, it's that the house went to you when everyone else wanted it. It's that the house went to you and you don't deserve it."

"Don't deserve it?" she said indignantly.

"You haven't been a part of this family for years. Ever since Sean died. You and Kieran made your own little family after that and forgot about the rest of us. So no, I don't think you deserve the house. I don't think you deserve something that means so much to this family, to me," he said.

"Okay, Dad, I get it, you're mad that I got something and you didn't, I understand that, but—"

"Save it, Camille. Don't come to the wake, and don't come to the funeral. We don't want you here." And the line went dead.

Just like after the first phone call from Aunt Peg where she'd found out her grandmother died, she felt totally numb, removed from herself. She and her father had never had a particularly good relationship, but she was not expecting to be talked to like that.

It began to sink in that she was basically being banned from her grandmother's memorial services. It was dawning on her that there was no point in her coming all the way to Chicago, and there was no more reason to stay. She could not face going back to New Orleans now, not after she had only left twelve hours ago, not after spending so much money on a wasted plane ticket. She needed to keep moving in the hopes of outrunning her thoughts, in the hopes of keeping one step ahead of the reality that her grandmother was gone now. And so she could only think of one more thing to do.


	3. On The Island

Back at O'Hare, things were not much different than when she'd left it less than twenty-four hours before. A quiet bustle filled the air, something similar to the feeling she kept in the center of her chest. It was a hushed movement, a small buzzing that meant everything was simultaneously still and alive. Cami was fighting hard to keep that feeling going.

This time she was at gate F3, out near the smaller gates at the very far end of the airport. There were only three other people there so far. She had gotten there extra early so she could avoid sitting around at the hotel. She tried not to think about how expensive this all was, the airfare, the wasted time in the hotel, the rental car she would have to get once she got there.

"Now boarding flight 512A to Charlotte, North Carolina," the flight attendant announced on the overhead. She couldn't get a nonstop flight, so she had a layover there for an hour and a half before she flew on to Charleston. She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and handed her boarding pass over to be scanned before walking down the boarding tunnel onto the plane. This plane was tinier than the one she'd taken from New Orleans, there was barely enough room for her bag in the overhead compartment. She strapped herself into the seat as others boarded.

The captain came onto the PA system and told them the flight would take two hours and thirteen minutes, and then went on to give instructions of what gate to go to if you were continuing on to Charleston from Charlotte. Cami didn't pay much attention, she was sure she could figure it out once she got there. Her eyes were already drooping. She wondered how much sleep she'd gotten in the past few days. She felt so exhausted, but still the compulsion to keep moving kept screaming in her mind.

She slept through the flight, only waking when the descent of the plane made her stomach feel like it had dropped into her feet. She deboarded the plane fifteen minutes later, hurrying over to the screen with departure information, and proceeded to the next gate and the next plane to take her the rest of the way to the beach house.

The stress of the airport, the boarding and deboarding, the canned air, the mad scramble to get from gate to gate, took her mind off things. If she could just keep the movement going, if she didn't have to stop, then she didn't have to remember that she was going to the beach house. And she wouldn't have to remember she was going there because her grandmother had died, and had left the house to her.

Two hours later, and she was in Charleston as the sun was steadily rising. She'd kept her phone off ever since leaving Chicago, but upon turning it back on, she realized it was six in the morning. She hadn't slept more than four hours combined for the past two days. And yet she didn't really feel tired, just like an empty shell of a body in perpetual motion.

The boy at the rental car desk didn't look older than seventeen, and her certainly didn't look awake at this hour. He entered her information into his computer, looked at her driver's license, took her credit card, and then handed her the keys to some generic SUV, telling her where to find it in the rental car lot. She did so easily, getting in, plugging her phone into the auxiliary cable. She used her mapping app to give her directions to Kiawah Island, to the house, and then turned on her music, spinning the volume dial up to an unreasonable level.

The sun was fully risen at this point, but still had an orangey tint about it, casting everything in a beautiful early-morning glow. The palmetto trees that lined either side of the road had an angelic glow about them. She's here with me, I can feel it, Cami thought to herself before she could repress it.

The thought launched a hundred more, spilling out from behind the door in her mind that she was trying so desperately to keep locked. She can't be here, she's dead. And then, No, that can't be right, she can't be dead. And then, It is right, otherwise Aunt Peg wouldn't have called, otherwise Dad wouldn't have fought with me like that. Otherwise I wouldn't be driving to a house that once belonged to her and now belongs to me.

And these thoughts cycled within her for an indeterminate amount of time, because once they'd been released, she could not shove them back behind that door. They were loose now, and it was making everything so real. Every time that tiny voice in her popped up to say, There must have been some mistake, a thousand more voices chimed in to disprove that statement.

The drive to the house was forty minutes, and no matter how loud she turned the music, still her mind raced on with these cyclical thoughts. At last she pulled the car into the driveway and killed the engine.

She had not been to the house— or more accurately, a mansion— since she was thirteen. She remembered summers there with her parents, with her cousins, with her whole family. With her grandmother.

Cami got out of the car. And she stood in awe of the place, the lush plants that lined the driveway, the palmetto trees along the sides, the winding stairs that led up to the massive front door, the pastel green paint that covered every inch of the house. Her knees gave out as she fell to the asphalt, feeling like she'd just been punched in the gut. I am here because this house is mine now. And this house is mine now because my grandmother is dead. The floodgates opened inside her, and for the first time since she'd found out, she cried.

Tears flowed freely, and she could not stop the strangled sobs that escaped her lips. She didn't care if anyone saw her or heard her, this strange girl sitting in a driveway at seven thirty in the morning and weeping inconsolably. The pain was raw inside her, and every attempt to shut it away again resulted in a fresh batch of tears.

She did not know how long she had been sitting there on the ground, or how long she'd been crying by the time she gathered the strength to stand. She knew there was a spare key hidden somewhere near the mailbox that was attached to the side of the front entranceway. Walking slowly up the front stairs, she focused on the task at hand because if she left any room for anything else, she knew the painful thoughts would fill her up again, and she would spend another twenty minutes crying on the ground.

After a few minutes, she found the key, placing it in the lock and turning. The door opened and she felt frozen on the front stoop. Her mind subconsciously darted to the vampires she knew, who had to be invited in first, who were resigned to stay outside unless otherwise indicated by the owner of the property. Was this how Klaus felt, like he might burst into flames if he took one more step forward? Cami felt like she might be struck down by lightning if she lifted her foot and placed it inside the threshold.

Still something pushed her to do it, and she stepped inside a house that she had not been to since she was a child. A house that would now bear her name on the deed.

Her memories of the place were dim, but as best as she could tell, everything was mostly the same. All the same furniture, only the technology was different, with enormous flat screen TVs adorning the walls. On the first floor, from where she stood, she looked around at the sitting area, two hallways diverging from it to lead off into guest bedrooms. To her left, she saw a staircase, and the rickety glass elevator that she and her cousins had loved to play in when they were children. I own a house with an elevator in it, she thought. And then she cringed because she felt guilty for feeling a fleeting moment of happiness. Remember how you got this house.

The room that she and her parents had normally stayed in was on the first floor, down the hallway that was to the left off the sitting room, but now she could have the pick of any room that she wanted. She took the stairs two at a time to the second level and found herself looking at another sitting area with another large television. Just behind the couches was a bar. She hurried over to it, searching the cupboards and the mini fridge for any alcohol that might be there. She found a bottle of red wine in a cupboard and hastily found a corkscrew to open it, not bothering to even look at what kind it was. For all she knew, it could be a two-hundred-dollar bottle, but she opened it and drank it straight without a glass, downing as much as she could in one pull.

As she moved out from behind the bar, she took the bottle with her. There was a patio door to a deck beside the counter, and she opened it, stepping out into the warm morning air. The barely-risen sun was glinting on the ocean water, calling to her, warming the sand of the beach. She would go down there eventually, it was only two blocks away, but she wanted to keep looking through the house. She left the door open when she stepped back inside, letting the fresh air waft in, making the place feel less sterile, like it hadn't been touched in years.

Past the second floor sitting room, she found another one with another TV, but mostly a lot of cushy pastel-colored couches that seemed more conducive to reading, especially with how the numerous windows allowed ample natural light to seep in. Sure enough, Cami found a smattering of books stacked haphazardly on various coffee tables and other flat surfaces. She picked one up, Lolita. She wondered who had been reading that, and how long ago that had been.

There was a long dining table beyond the couches, still set with dusty green placemats and a couple of coasters. Some of the chairs were pushed away from the table, as if one of her little cousins had just been there and had been too excited to go to the beach to bother with pushing it in after he'd finished breakfast. Cami had the strange feeling that at any moment she might turn around and see someone, and that someone might tell her that they were glad to see her, that they had missed her. That maybe even her grandmother might be that someone. But the thoughts that could no longer be repressed, the ones that were swimming through her mind now at a relentless pace, told her such a thing was not possible.

The kitchen was just past the table, furnished with the latest technology in shining stainless steel. She opened the fridge to find it empty, but noticed there were a few frozen meals in the freezer that she could probably use to tide her over until she could get to a grocery store. But it didn't really matter all that much; she doubted she would be hungry any time soon.

She left the kitchen, passing by the stairs again, and then passing by the elevator and the stairs to the third floor. She had rarely ever gone up there, and had no desire to do so now. Besides, that's where her grandmother's room was. She didn't think she could bring herself to go up there just yet. She went past the bar again, taking another long swig from her wine bottle before setting it on the counter.

Down a hallway, she found a large bedroom outfitted in ugly old-fashioned decor. Her Aunt Peg and Uncle Marshall usually stayed there when they came. But for now, she decided this would be her room.

She collapsed on the bed, on top of the covers, closing her eyes. The alcohol was beginning to wash over her, calming her racing thoughts, making the exhaustion set in. The last thing she thought of before she dropped into a dark and dreamless sleep was of Klaus. Did he know she was here? And what would he say to her if he did?

Cami had slept through the entire day. It was six in the evening when she woke up, bewildered, wondering if her phone meant AM or PM when it flashed "6:00" across its screen. It also told her she had a text message that had arrived three hours previously. I know you're busy. And I don't expect a response from you. But I hope you're doing okay, and I'm thinking about you. It was from Will.

Her brain could not sort out how she felt about this. On the one hand, she really appreciated his concern, finding it endearing, he was always so sweet. And on the other, she found it impertinent, him thinking that she could really talk to him about something this personal and devastating when they didn't actually know each other on that level. She could only think of one person she would want to talk to about this, but she knew for now she would rather shut herself away, be alone.

Stretching, she got up and paced the room a few times while her head shook away the remaining dregs of sleep. Her stomach growled, and she thought back to the frozen meals she'd seen in the fridge. None of them seemed appealing now, and who knew how old they were. And she needed more alcohol, stronger alcohol. Taking out her phone, she used it to search for the closest grocery store, discovering it was only ten minutes away in a little oasis of tourist traps and kitschy stores.

Once in the car, she realized that she had left her bag in the passenger seat. She wasn't even sure she would be needing it any time soon— would she change clothes? Would she shower? Brush her teeth? It was taking all her energy to even go to the grocery store. It was most likely that once she got home from this endeavor, she would once again collapse on the bed, fully clothed, on top of the covers.

The grocery store was located in a little strip mall that had shops selling overpriced beach-related apparel and sunglasses, a gimmicky ice cream shop, and a jewelry store. In the center of the square was a grassy area, populated by dozens of people setting up lawn chairs and blankets, all congregating in front of a large fabric screen. Cami understood that some sort of movie would be shown here. Kids were running around chasing each other, and she smiled a little to herself.

The store itself was some new-age health foods market with things like kombucha and gluten-free organic vegan cookie mixes. She picked a few snack-y things, some chips, some bread and cheese, eggs, the basics, and then picked a bottle of vodka from a brand she'd never heard of. When did a little math in her head for how much this would all cost, she cringed a little, but she just added it to the tab. Plane tickets, a rental car, expensive groceries, who cared at this point?

Making one last run through the aisles to see if she'd missed anything she felt she couldn't live without, she stopped once more by the dairy fridge. Behind her, a man lingered as if she were standing in front of the exact thing he needed, and he was waiting for her to move. Cami bristled, the hair on the back of her neck standing up, goosebumps raising on her skin.

Don't turn around, she thought to herself, wait until he goes away. Because she knew why goosebumps were breaking out all along her arms. The man loitering behind her, whoever he was, was most certainly not human. Cami had been around enough non-humans to sense when one was near her.

She could still feel him behind her, watching her. And she couldn't believe her luck. She had almost looked forward to being free of the supernatural, if only for a little while. It was her one solace in this crappy situation, that at least she could be away from witch and werewolf and vampire drama. And here was this man, seemingly intent on ruining that for her.

Without turning around, she said, "I have a switchblade in my purse," just above a whisper. Only someone with supernatural hearing would have been able to hear.

"You're very brave for a human," the man said. "Unfortunately, hostility will not save you in the end. There's no need for it, at any rate. I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then maybe start with that statement next time," she said.

"And why would you want to hurt me in the first place?"

"Because I know what you are," she said, finally turning around to face the man. She was first struck by how handsome he was, well dressed, polished. But then again, she had not expected anything less.

The man standing before her was tall, his black hair parted neatly to the side, his eyes bright. "Daniel Yukimura," he said, extending his hand to shake.

"What do you want?" she asked, pointedly not shaking his hand.

"To know your name, for a start. To know how you know what I am," Daniel said.

"I've been around the block a few times with your kind," she said. "Why are you following me?"

"Who said I was?"

Cami's stomach sank as a thought crossed her mind. "Did Klaus send you to spy on me?" She couldn't tell if she would be flattered or angry if Daniel said yes.

"Klaus?" he said, his eyes narrowing. It was obvious that he didn't know what she was talking about. And then realization dawned on him. "Klaus Mikaelson?"

When she didn't answer, he continued, "You know Klaus Mikaelson?"

"In a manner of speaking," she said quietly.

"I didn't think he would associate with humans," Daniel said.

Cami thought carefully of how to explain their relationship. If she admitted she was his therapist, Klaus would surely be angry with her because he would see therapy as a sign of weakness to others. If she told Daniel that she had feelings for Klaus, Daniel would laugh at her. "I do some secretarial work for him."

"And he's told you what he is?"

"I figured it out for myself," she said.

"Clever," Daniel said.

"So he really didn't send you to keep an eye on me?"

"He really didn't," Daniel confirmed.

"So why are you following me?" A knot was forming in her stomach. Vampires were never ones for playing with there food, and she was sure now that the next words out of Daniel's mouth would be his confession that he was sizing her up to eat.

"Checking out the fresh meat." When he saw her horrified expression, he quickly covered, "In a manner of speaking, of course. I have no intentions of making you my next meal. Just curious about any newcomers to the island. With the summer tourist season winding down, I'm surprised when a new face arrives.

"And seeing your reaction upon meeting me, knowing immediately what I am, that has intrigued me all the more."

She studied him for a long second, trying to decide if she should believe him or not. Scanning her eyes over him, she saw his body language was relaxed, unthreatening, and decided he wasn't going to hurt her, for now anyway. While looking him over, she noticed the way his slacks fit him so perfectly, the way his sport coat framed his shape, and she wondered to herself why vampires always had to dress so fancily.

When she met his eyes, he was smirking, and she knew he had noticed her looking him over. He was incredibly attractive, she had to admit, but she was still suspicious.

"So what brings you onto the island?"

"Personal business," Cami said tersely. She wasn't ready to say it out loud, the reason why she was there. "But," she conceded, "through a strange turn of events, I find myself now in possession of a house on Albatross Way."

"Is that so?" Daniel said. "You'll have to tell me that story sometime. Perhaps over dinner?"

Was this guy for real? Cami couldn't believe that he was really asking her out after only talking to her for ten minutes. "Perhaps," she said coldly, leaving room for only one interpretation: Perhaps Not.

"You never told me your name," Daniel said.

"Camille."

"Enchanting to mee you, Camille," he said. He bowed his head a little, and then spun on his heel and left.

Cami felt her stomach clench and unclench, and as she watched him go, she was left with this lingering sense of unease. On one hand, she felt intrigued by him, this handsome vampire stranger who showed up in the one place she thought would be vampire-free. And on the other, that was exactly what was so suspicious about it: on the island, she thought she would be away from the supernatural drama, and here she was, running right into it. It was like no matter where she went, she couldn't escape it, it followed her.

The checkout process, getting her bags into the car, driving back to the house, lying back down in bed once the groceries were put away, it all passed by in a blur. Because she couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with Daniel, and she couldn't stop thinking about how she actually wanted to see him again, even though she was still skeptical about him. It was too much of a coincidence that he would just happen to show up right where she was. Klaus had to be involved somehow. That, of course, raised the question as to how he knew she was there, and what else he might know about the situation.

She knew she shouldn't be surprised, because he always had a way of knowing these things, he had connections everywhere. Although Daniel truly did seem surprised when she mentioned Klaus's name, so in the end she was totally lost, unsure if Klaus was involved or not, unsure then of what Daniel wanted.

To go to bed, Cami got under the covers this time, although she did not change out of her clothes. Even though she had spent the entire day asleep, she drifted off with ease, falling into a dreamless sleep.


	4. I'm On A Boat And

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: pot smoking

After a week of island living, Cami had done mostly nothing. Her days mainly consisted of waking up, eating a granola bar, going to the beach, going to the pool club, come back to the house, and then drink herself to sleep.

On this particular morning, she was lying on the beach, catching some sun, and listening to an audiobook on her phone when a shadow crossed over her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she opened them to find the man from the grocery store the other day standing over her.

"Can I help you?" she said coldly.

"We meet again," he said.

"Yes, how coincidental," Cami said, knowing quite well that this was not a coincidence. He had to be following her, he had to have been sent by Klaus, she just knew it.

"May I sit next to you?"

She studied him for a long moment. "Do you really want to sit down in the sand while you're wearing a suit?"

"I don't mind," the man said.

"Do you always wear a suit to the beach in the middle of August?"

"Are you always this suspicious of everyone you meet?" he countered. She was struck for a moment at how familiar he seemed to her, and it took her a minute to figure out why. He reminded her so much of an Asian version of Elijah, both with his wardrobe choices and his mannerisms, so outwardly formal and straight-laced.

When Cami didn't answer him, he sat beside her in the sand, facing the ocean, watching the waves. "So how can I help you, Mr…" She had forgotten his last name.

"Yukimura," he filled in. "But you can call me Daniel."

Still, he didn't answer her question. "Alright, Daniel," she said after a moment, "is there something I can do for you?"

Again, he didn't speak for another long moment, until she turned her gaze away from the waves to look at him. In the afternoon light, the sun glinting off the ocean cast him in a sweet orange glow that played off the strong, angular planes of his face. She was momentarily entranced by him.

He smirked, and she was sure he noticed that she'd been staring appreciatively at him. "No, no, I was just passing by and ran into you."

"You just happened to be strolling along the beach, wearing a suit, and bumped into me?"

"That's right," he said, flashing a devilish smile. "So have you finished your personal business?"

"My what?"

"The other day, when we met, you told me you were on the island to attend to personal business," Daniel explained.

"Oh…oh yeah. It's going fine," Cami lied. In reality, she hadn't even begun to process her 'personal business.' She knew that made her a terrible therapist, a hypocrite, someone who couldn't even follow the advice that she so often gave to her patients that were going through the grieving process.

"Good," he said. "Does that mean you'll be leaving soon?"

She couldn't read his tone, but to her, it almost sounded disappointed. "I'm not sure," she said honestly. "I'm not sure how long I will be here. I still have some work to do, I'm not sure how long that will take."

"Well perhaps if you plan on sticking around for a little longer, I could take you to coffee sometime."

Cami blushed, turning away from him. "I hardly know you," she said. "Who's to say you don't intend to eat me as soon as I finish my latte?"

Daniel smiled, chuckled a little. "Listen, if I wanted to eat you, I would have done it already, that I can promise you. I'm not one for subtlety."

"Oh, I noticed," she said.

Again, he laughed a little. "You're fiery," he said. "I like that." When Cami rolled her eyes, he added, "Listen, I've never met a human who knew about us and our world and had either remained alive or remained a human. Especially not one who was involved with Klaus Mikaelson. I'd just love to pick your brain."

Cami's stomach tightened upon the word involved. Was she involved with Klaus? In a sense, yes, but not quite in the way that she wanted to be. At least, not yet.

"Fine," she conceded. "Pick me up tomorrow at five-thirty. Dinner. I don't do coffee."

"I'll pick you up," he said. When he smiled at her, she felt her skin flush. Daniel stood, dusting sand off his slacks and blazer, careful not to get any on her. "See you then." And then he strolled away down the beach.

The next evening, Cami was putting the finishing touches on herself, hoping she looked presentable. She didn't have too many clothes that she'd brought with her, but she was going to wear the black dress she'd planned on wearing to her grandmother's funeral. She had desperately wanted to buy something else, but she didn't have the energy or time to go all the way to Charleston to go shopping, so she decided she had to settle. It's not disrespectful, she told herself, think of it as turning something tragic into a positive experience. And she tried to block out the reason why she'd brought the dress, but the thought of her grandmother still crept in.

She would want me to have a good time. Although she blocked out the part where she knew her grandmother would be furious if she found her granddaughter forgoing a Nice Irish Catholic Boy to go out with a Japanese vampire.

The doorbell rang, and Cami rushed to grab her purse, stuffing her feet into her shoes, checking herself in a hallway mirror to make sure she looked okay, before she opened the door to find Daniel on her front stoop. This evening he was wearing a black suit and tie with a cornflower blue button-up shirt, and his hair was slicked back against his head, making him look very debonaire.

"You look…" she searched. "You look dashing."

"And you look radiant," he said. She blushed as he extended his hand for her to take his arm, and they walked to his car.

Unsurprisingly, he drove a sleek sports car, low to the ground, that zoomed down the quiet island streets at an illegal speed. To her, it just fit in with his Suaver-Than-Thou Vampire aesthetic. The drive was silent, and she started to regret her choice to come out with him. How could she have agreed to a date with someone that she'd only spoken to for a total of twenty minutes? They were certain to have nothing in common, and she was sure the evening would be filled with awkward attempts to fill the silence.

They arrived at the restaurant and were seated at a small table near the panoramic windows that looked out onto a marina. The sun was setting on the water, and again, serene orange light set Daniel's face aglow. Seeing him like that, seeing how handsome he was when she allowed herself to look at him, she knew it wouldn't really matter if they had anything to talk about or not. She could stare at him all night.

They sat down across from each other, and silence filled the air for several moments before the waiter came and took their order.

"So," Daniel said, "where are you from?"

"New Orleans," she said.

"And you now find yourself in possession of a house on Kiawah Island?" he said, the inflection on the last word indicating that he wanted explanation.

Cami thought briefly of lying, or evading the question, but she knew the man sitting before her was too smart for that. And although he was polite, and would probably respect her if she didn't want to talk about it, he would eventually get it out of her. Because that smile of his could make her spill her darkest secrets.

"It was my grandmother's," Cami said. "She passed away, last week." It was the first time she could admit it out loud, and it felt so strange. "She left me the house."

"I'm sorry, then, that you've been brought here under such terrible circumstances," Daniel said. "It's very hard to lose someone."

"It will get easier," she said, even though she couldn't imagine that it ever would. Every time she thought of her grandmother, she thought of how she'd been banned from the memorial services, and how her father had been so terrible towards her on the phone, and how she'd felt so much loss in such a short period of time with her grandmother and Sean and Kieran. And she felt angry.

"I hope it does soon," Daniel said. "So do you think you'll live here now?"

"I…I don't know. I just know I'm not ready to go back to New Orleans yet. I'm not sure how much longer I will stay, but I know I can't go back yet."

"Does Klaus know that you're gone?"

"Why are you so interested in Klaus? And why does it matter whether or not he knows?"

"Didn't you say you were his secretary? Usually a secretary is needed every day," Daniel pointed out.

"I'm sure he's found a replacement," she said quietly. "But why do you keep bringing him up? Are you in love with him?" she teased.

"No, nothing like that," Daniel said, laughing. She once again felt entranced by his smile, by how effortlessly he laughed. She longed to laugh like that again, to set aside her grief, to turn off her mind, and just let go. "Like I said, Klaus is infamous. Every vampire in existence knows his name. So I want to know how a human came to be in his employ. And how said human knows what he is, knows what I am, and has been allowed to continue living."

"It involves a lot of compulsion," Cami said, although that hadn't been true in quite some time. It was just easier to keep things simple with this guy. She still didn't trust him or know what he wanted, and she didn't really want to explain that the relationship between herself and Klaus had moved into a gray area between professional and…something more than that, she still wasn't sure.

"But he's allowed you to keep the knowledge of what he is, of the other creatures that inhabit our world?"

"I can be very stubborn when I want to be," she said with a smile.

"So I'm learning," Daniel said, returning her smile. Cami felt her insides liquify under his gaze. She found him so attractive, and yet there was something familiar about his smirk that she couldn't quite place. For some reason, when he smiled like that, she pictured another vampire she knew with an equally alluring crooked smile.

After a moment's pause, Daniel said, "Enough business talk, then. Tell me about your life in New Orleans, aside from your work with Klaus."

The rest of the dinner was filled with small talk, discussing the basic points of interest in their lives. At one point, Cami asked, "How did you get turned?"

Daniel pursed his lips, and she watched the color drain away from his handsome face. "That's rather personal," he said.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's much like the story of how someone lost their virginity," Daniel explained. "A deeply personal experience that isn't usually talked about until you've known someone for a while."

"I… I didn't know," Cami said. She had known that Klaus's story was rather painful and emotional, but she hadn't realized that it was supposed to be private. But she realized now that it was different with him because he was part of the Original Family, and that all vampires in existence stemmed from him or one of his siblings. And so all vampires knew of Klaus's story because they came from him or one of his brothers or sister, whether directly or by proxy. But for one of those vampires descended from the Mikaelsons, Cami didn't realize that their story might not be public knowledge, and it might not be easy to share.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"It's alright," Daniel said. "Maybe one day, I'll share it with you."

She flushed at the thought of growing closer to him, of him feeling comfortable enough to share something so personal with her, of him trusting her.

On the drive back to the beach house, she thought about kissing him. She hoped he couldn't hear how fast her heart was beating, knowing full well that he could. With his eyes focused on the road, she studied him, the way his black hair glinted under the passing street lamps, the way the shadows played across the planes of his face.

In the driveway of the house, he turned off the car and got out, indicating for her to wait as he hurried to the other side and opened her door for her. Once she'd gotten out, he closed the door behind her, but stood in front of her, in her space. Her stomach fluttered and tightened, and she could hear her heart hammering in her ears.

Cami stepped back and leaned her back against the side of the car as Daniel came even closer. She felt her body start to shake slightly in anticipation as his hands slid over the fabric of her dress at her waist. His lips were only inches from hers.

She felt his breath hot against her ear as he spoke close to it, his voice low, quiet, husky. "I'm throwing a party the day after tomorrow. On my boat. Would you want to come?"

"What kind of party?"

"Just a casual get together with some friends," he said, and she couldn't see the look on his face because of how close he was, but she could hear a smile in his voice. "There will be drinks, swimming, party favors. I want you to be my date."

"Okay," she found herself saying quietly. It felt as if her brain had been scooped out of all reasoning and higher functions like speaking or thinking. She could only feel, feel her nerves, feel how close he was, feel the warmth of his fingers resting on her hips.

When his lips pressed to hers, she heard herself inhale sharply, her stomach doing a backflip, her arms winding around his neck. She kissed him back, feeling utterly lost for a moment, lost in a way that she'd been longing for feel for a while now. Because now she could only think of his lips, and the smell of his cologne, and the warmth of his body as he leaned into her. And for a moment she could forget about her grandmother and this knot of sadness that was sitting inside her, so far untouched.

After a long moment, he pulled back. "So I'll see you Thursday?"

She felt her stomach fall into her shoes. She hadn't had high hopes for it, and she certainly hadn't expected it, but she'd secretly wished that he would have come up with her. That they could have spent the night together, that she wouldn't have had to spend another night of silence in the massive, empty house.

"Thursday," she said, hoping her voice didn't convey any disappointment.

Daniel stepped away from her, letting her pass by him as she began to walk up the driveway and up the front steps towards the door. "Good night, Camille," he said.

"Good night, Daniel."

On Thursday, she got a text saying he'd pick her up at six, and to bring a swimsuit. The day before, realizing she had not brought a swimsuit, Cami drove in to Charleston, stopping at the first department store that she saw. She picked out a bunch of new everyday outfits as well, knowing that she could not live on the three outfits she'd brought with her, especially if she didn't know how much longer she would be staying here.

And so she put on the bathing suit, a pair of jean shorts, and a flowy blouse, hoping she looked somewhat presentable and not too casual. She remembered the other night Daniel had said it would be casual, but she always felt a little nervous about these kinds of things, and hated the thought of looking underdressed, especially in front of someone's friends. Cami didn't know if these friends would be humans or otherwise, which increased her anxiety even more.

Daniel arrived ten minutes before six. "I'm incurably early," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Well good," she said, "Now you can tell me honestly if I don't look good, and I'll have time to go change."

"You look incredible," Daniel said, and she blushed. Today, he was not wearing a suit, but instead a pair of smartly pressed khaki chinos and a spring green polo shirt with the collar turned up. He had this air about him, like that all-too-cocky American Boy that was too rich for his own good. And even though there was something distinctly off-putting about that, Cami also found it sexy, because she knew guys like that all had their vices and their bad boy ways and their crooked smiles that made her melt.

The marina was only ten minutes away, and with each passing minute, she felt more and more nervous. Would she like these people? Would Daniel leave her alone to talk to other people, leaving her stranded making small talk with people she didn't know? When they pulled in to the parking lot, he turned to her. "They're going to love you, I can tell," Daniel said, and she wondered how he knew what she was thinking.

They got out of the car, down the dock towards a shimmering white yacht. Cami felt his hand slip into hers, and she felt her stomach tighten. Even though she had only met him a few days ago, even though she still didn't fully trust him or his intentions, she felt safe with him, like she was taken care of. And when she got a closer look at the boat, at the people lounging about on its deck, she felt almost powerful to be on Daniel's arm.

A person had to be a multimillionaire in order to afford something like this boat. The water and sunlight glinted off of it, giving it a sort of gilded halo that engulfed both it and the people on board. Said people were laughing, talking excitedly, some of them dancing, all of them half naked and bronzed gods and goddesses. If Cami had thought she was nervous before, it was nothing in comparison to how she felt now.

As they got onto the boat, Daniel gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Immediately she asked if she could have a drink. He smiled at her, going over to the bar and mixing a Long Island iced tea for her. As he handed it to her, he said, "Relax, babe. I'm sticking by you."

She felt her face flush when he had called her babe, and took a big swig of her drink in the hopes that he wouldn't notice. They were alone where they'd boarded below deck, sheltered from the brightness of the setting sun and from prying eyes of those up above. Daniel stepped closer, taking her chin in his hand, pressing his lips to hers just once. "You ready?" he said. She nodded, although she had never felt farther from being ready in her life.

He lead her up a small, incredibly narrow set of stairs, holding her hand as they emerged into the blinding sunlight, into a world of loud music and chatting voices and beautiful people. She could immediately sense that she was the only human in the vicinity, and that everyone else could sense it too. They continued their conversations, but she felt all eyes on her, watching her as she and Daniel moved from group to group, making introductions and small talk. The boat began to pull away from the dock, and Cami tried to be subtle as she gulped more of her drink in the hopes of having the alcohol calm her nerves.

The last cluster that Cami was introduced to seemed to be most intrigued to meet her. All the other people had politely smiled and shook her hand, but hadn't said much more than a "Hi," or "How are you." The last group consisted of two men, one named Joel, and one named Yannis, and an incredibly tall, blonde woman named Mel. "A human, Daniel?" the woman said.

"She's cool," he said, shooting her a stern look that indicated both that Cami knew about vampires, and that said vampires shouldn't mess with her. Daniel looked down at Cami's empty glass and said he'd be right back with another for her. And so Cami was left stranded with vampires who were suspicious of her and why she was there. "So how do you know Daniel?"

She wasn't sure which one said it, but she answered nonetheless. "We met at the grocery store, actually."

"How quaint," Yannis said.

Cami rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not one to sit here and be scrutinized when I know what you're thinking of me. I've known about your kind for a long time now, I've known for years and I have remained a human, and a living one, at that." The three vampires looked at her, and she could tell that even though they were studying her with a slightly lower level of disdain, they were still unimpressed. "And I'm not above name-dropping either," Cami continued. "I work for Klaus Mikaelson."

That got them. The three people before her looked at each other before looking back at her, their cool facades starting to give way to friendlier expressions. Daniel returned to her side, passing her a new Long Island, and she took a long swig. She could start to feel the first one hitting her, making her loosen up, quieting the nerves in her stomach. "How's it going over here?" Daniel said.

Yannis took something long, thin, and white from behind his ear, putting it between his lips and lighting the end. A fragrant, earthy smell filled the air. He took the joint from his lips, extolling a large amount of smoke from his mouth, holding it out to her. Cami hesitated; she hadn't smoked pot since college, she wasn't sure she could still do it without having a major coughing fit and embarrassing herself. But, with all eyes on her, she cautiously took the joint in her hand, taking the lighter and reigniting the end of it. Daniel studied her carefully, watching as she inhaled and kept the smoke in her lungs until she felt as if she might pass out. And then she exhaled, letting the smoke cloud the air in front of her. And she smiled when she found that she would not cough, and they all smiled with her.

She passed the joint to Daniel, who took a hit from it, holding the smoke in his mouth for a long moment. He pulled her close, his arm around her waist, as he leaned down, pressing his mouth to hers, and blowing the smoke past her lips. Cami felt herself flush with warmth as his lips closed gently around her lower lip before he pulled away.

It had been so long since she'd last smoked, she wasn't sure she would feel anything. But after fifteen minutes, she felt a tightness at the back of her head, and a lightness in her thoughts. The alcohol was mixing in with the feeling now, and it was almost like every molecule within her body was vibrating, floating in a way that was telling her that she was invincible. The music sunk into her bones, and she could feel the rhythm bouncing within her. Yannis, Joel, and Mel were still smoking, occasionally passing another joint to her, but after a while she noticed that she'd moved away from them.

Her body moved to the pounding music, and she realized now that they were way out to sea, and that it was dark, and that she didn't know how long it had been since the sun had gone down. Daniel was up against her, his hands on her hips, his lips on her neck. And she felt so invincible, almost immortal, because here she was, the only human on this yacht, dancing with the hottest person there, untouchable.

Time got away from her, she didn't know how long she'd been there, or how long they'd been dancing, or when people began to pass out or leave. She didn't know when Daniel had taken her below deck, or how long they'd kissed before they went to a cramped bedroom, or how his lips tasted different with the lingering flavor of weed and bourbon. But she did know that when they fell asleep together, fully clothed, holding each other, she felt safe, and she felt like if she could have more days like this, she could find the strength to keep going.


	5. Opening the Floodgates

When she woke up, they were docked again. As she and Daniel woke up and emerged from below deck onto the dock, she felt as if her head might explode. Too many Long Islands. Her stomach churned, and she was afraid she might get sick.

Daniel led her by the hand back to the car. She hoped she didn't look as terrible as she felt, but she wasn't feeling optimistic. They began to drive away from the marina in silence, and out the window, out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw…

Her stomach lurched and she truly thought she was going to throw up in the car. Daniel was looking over at her as he drove, studying her cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just swear I saw…I thought I saw someone I knew," she said. Because the man she'd seen walking to his car while they drove away had such familiar light brown curls, dark eyes, a crooked smirk… "It's nothing," she covered quickly. "I just need an aspirin. And maybe some fried food."

That afternoon, she spent it alone, pacing up and down the house, telling herself that the person she thought she saw at the marina could not actually be the person she thought she saw. But still, her mind would not let it go.

There's no way it could have been Klaus. And yet she could have sworn it was him.

Well, at any rate, she wasn't sure it would have mattered if it was him or not. She was sure that he knew at least something was going on with her, he always did one way or another, and yet he hadn't called or texted to see if she was okay. Even Will had been texting her once every few days, saying he didn't expect a response but still checking in on her and hoping she was doing okay under the circumstances.

Her phone lit up, and she thought for a moment that Klaus had somehow known he was thinking about her and had texted her. But it was Daniel. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

She liked him, she liked the way she felt around him, she liked that when she was with him, she forget about her grandmother and this empty house and this sadness sitting inside her, but now that she'd thought she'd seen Klaus, she could think of nothing else. And so she did not respond to Daniel's text. Instead, she continued pacing around the second floor.

She stopped in front of the stairs leading up to the top floor. And she found her feet leading her up those stairs, two at a time, her heartbeat increasing with each step.

The third floor was her grandmother's exclusive territory. No matter how many cousins were staying at one time in the house, no one stayed on the third floor except her grandmother. If they ran out of space, it didn't matter that there were two bedrooms upstairs, someone would sleep on a couch.

Cami was at the top of the stairs now when her breathing stopped. Her throat tightened and she could not take another step forward. Before her eyes clouded over and the tears flowed freely, she saw the sitting area, the stately wooden coffee table in the center. Her grandmother used to do 1000-piece jigsaw puzzles on that table. And although her grandmother didn't really like people coming up to Her Floor, Cami would go up there to work on the puzzle whenever she couldn't sleep. Her grandmother would always catch her at one or two in the morning, and wouldn't scold her for being out of bed or for being on the third floor, she would just sit down beside Cami and help her work on the puzzle.

Her knees started to give out as sobs wracked through her, and she fell to the floor. Every few minutes, she would think she had collected herself only to be surprised with another bout of sobbing. As the sun set on the island, Cami kept crying. The knot of sadness that had sat in her chest since finding out was coming undone, releasing itself inside her like a deluge.

Every fiber in her told her that she was not built to handle this. It wasn't just her grandmother, it was that it was another family member to add to the list of dead loved ones, it was that she'd already experienced so much loss with Kieran and Sean, it was that she felt guilty for not spending more time with her grandma, it was that her father hated her now. And she could no longer seal all that pain away, so she let it out.

Cami was not sure how long she had spent crying, she just knew that the sun was fully set now and that it was time to pick herself up. She knew all the self-care techniques she should do, the ones she would be telling a client to do if they were in her shoes. Take a bubble bath. Do your nails. Listen to music. Draw a picture. And yet all she could manage was to go back downstairs to the sitting room on the second floor and turn on some mind-numbing television.

For a moment, she thought about calling Klaus, but she wasn't sure what she would say. She just knew that right then, when she felt like this raw, empty shell of a woman, she only wanted to talk to him, if only to hear his voice.

Now her days were filled mostly with crying. Crying and drinking, or crying and going to dinner with Daniel, or crying and watching TV, crying and going to the beach, crying and going for a run.

After she'd been on the island for twenty days, she still knew she had no intention of going back to New Orleans in the foreseeable future. But she did miss the bar, and she missed her chats with Vincent. And she missed the drama of the vampire world. Here, even with Daniel and with his yacht parties, she felt removed. The vampires that lived on the island did not have a faction war with other supernatural beings, or they did not have to worry about unknowable forces of evil descending upon them to disturb their idyll. They just lived an island life, just like any other person on the island, with the only difference being that they were immortal and could go on living this way forever.

Cami took to daydreaming about such a life, imagining what it would be like to be able to live this way forever. Not the crying part, granted, because she knew the grieving process would pass and she would feel whole again at some point. But the part that came after, the acceptance of it all, and then the ability to truly enjoy what the island had to offer, to enjoy the sun and the water and the salty sea air. And no matter how hard she tried not to, she always pictured Klaus lying beside her on a beach chair, or Klaus matching her pace on a morning run, or Klaus toasting her with a glass of wine on the back porch.

On her run that afternoon, she took her usual four mile loop through her neighborhood, taking a slower time of things than usual. The air was cooler now than it had been when she'd first arrived in Kiawah, but she was getting used to it. She was getting used to the place in general, and she was thinking of the places she passed as her neighborhood, the people she passed as her neighbors, the place where she lived as her house.

As she turned onto Hilton Head Way, something flashed by the corner of her eye, something that moved with unnatural speed. She slowed her pace even further, almost down to a walk, following its direction with her eye. It stopped in an empty lot in between houses, just for half a second, before it continued on its way out of sight.

To the untrained eye, to someone without experience with vampires, someone might not have seen anything at all. But Cami knew. And she could have sworn she knew who this was. Because in the flash of a second when the figure had stopped, she knew she had seen a leather jacket and brown curls.

He was gone now, and so she continued on her way. Once back at the house, she grabbed her phone and paced the floor, knowing full well that she would have to text Klaus but not knowing what to say. Nothing could shake her conviction that Klaus was here, she had now seen him twice. All she had to do now was figure a way to trick him into admitting it.

She opened the door to the second floor patio and paced up and down, still trying to figure out what to say. And then it dawned on her that it wasn't something she should say— it was something she would have to do.

Her stomach grew cold as doubt started to fill her. What if she was wrong, what if it really wasn't him? But she had to trust her gut instinct now, and she would have to just go for it because she knew she wasn't wrong, she was just scared. She was going to do something dangerous.

Cami put the phone down on the glass patio table and stepped closer to the railing of the balcony. Her hands began to shake as she clutched the wood, and she wished she didn't have to do this. She wished she could think of another way to go about it, another way to make it look like she was in danger when she really wasn't. But Klaus was too smart for that, and he wouldn't come if she wasn't really in trouble.

She swung her leg over the railing, and then the other until she was standing facing the house, the only thing keeping her from falling being the tips of her toes and the white-knuckled grip of her hands on the railings. In her head, she said a little prayer, although she hadn't really been religious since she was a child. She just didn't know what else to do, other than to hope and pray that she wasn't wrong about this, that he would come and catch her. There's only one way to find out, she thought. And with that, she let go.

The fall was simultaneously the longest moment of her life, and over in a horrifically short period of time. Her eyes were clamped shut, her entire body tensed in anticipation of hitting the ground, or hitting his arms, hitting something. She heard her own scream, although it didn't feel or sound like it was coming from her.

And then before her brain could really register what was happening, she was being set on her feet and words were coming out of her mouth, tumbling one after the other. "I knew it, I knew I was right, I knew it, oh my god, oh my god, I'm alive," and then she was laughing.

Her legs shook and gave out beneath her, but she placed her palms against the concrete patio and felt the realness of it, felt that she was still alive. And then she looked up and she saw him.

And he was looking at her like she was absolutely insane.

"What in god's name is wrong with you?" Klaus said as he stared at her. He was breathing very hard.

"I knew it," she kept saying.

"Congratulations on being the Smartest Idiot on the planet. Now do you mind telling me why exactly you were trying to off yourself?" he said.

"I knew it. I knew you were here. And you would save me if I…"

"If you tried to do something certifiable?"

Again, Cami was laughing uncontrollably. The adrenaline was firing through her, making her body shake, making her lose control over her basic functions. All thoughts had left her mind, and she could only laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Good lord, Camille, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Klaus said. She felt his hand under her arm, pulling her to her feet and taking her inside the house.

It was dark inside, but Cami didn't think to turn on the lights. The weight of what she'd just done, almost just done, was starting to hit her. I almost killed myself, she thought, and even though she had been right, even though she knew Klaus had saved her, the reality of what could have happened was sinking in hard.

"You mind telling me what the f*ck is going on?" Klaus said.

"I knew you were here."

"Yes, yes we've covered that already," he said in a deadpan tone. "So why didn't you just call me, if you were so sure that I was here?"

"Would you really have given up the ghost so easily? Because I guarantee if I had said, 'Hey, I know you're following me so just come out with it,' you would have denied it and played dumb."

His lips set in a fine line, and they both knew she was right. "So I had to do something drastic."

"Well you didn't have to scare me half to death."

"Trust me, it wasn't exactly a picnic for me either," Cami said. "But if we're done deflecting so you can have the focus on me, can we please talk about why exactly you're following me?"

"A…friend. Told me you're here," he said, not meeting her eye.

"A friend?" Cami had a feeling she knew exactly who had told him. And she felt utterly betrayed by Daniel, who had told her multiple times that he had not been in touch with Klaus.

"But he didn't tell me why," Klaus covered quickly.

Cami thought for a moment about what to say, how to talk about it. "I inherited the house," she said, and left it at that.

He raised an expectant eyebrow, waiting for more, but she didn't offer anything else. After a minute of silence he said, "So this is your house?"

"Yes," she answered definitively.

"Then tell me what sorts of alcohol you have. Because I think we could both use a drink."


	6. Easing The Pain

The ensuing conversation was tense and superficial. On his end, it was all The Quarter is good, and Hope is good, and Elijah is good, and everything is fine, nothing exciting going on. On hers, The island is beautiful at sunset, and I like to go swimming, I go for runs, you'd really like the restaurant by the marina, it's quiet here and there's no vampire drama. Neither of them, it seemed, could talk about why they were there.

"You can stay downstairs," she said, and she showed him to the room where she and her parents used to stay when they came. "Good night."

When Cami shut herself away in her own room, and laid down in her bed, she could not fall asleep knowing that he was just one short flight of stairs away. She couldn't turn her brain off, or stop it from running away with a cascade of anxious thoughts.

She wondered why he was there. Was he worried about her? Did he know why she was there? He said that he didn't, but she wasn't so sure. How did he know where to find her? She speculated on his motivations for being there. Did he think she couldn't handle whatever was going on with her? Did he think he could just swoop in and save her? He kind of had already…But she hated looking like the weak human, the damsel in distress.

At any rate, he had no right to be following her. If he was concerned for her, he should have just called, or even showed up on her doorstep, not lurked in the shadows spying on her. Anger flared up in her, and it was almost a relief to her; it was easier to be mad at him than it was to acknowledge the small part of her deep down that was so grateful to have him here.

The next week passed by in the same fashion as that night, keeping things on the surface, never talking about the details of why they were there. In the mornings, she would go on her run, and when she came back she would find he had left the house. She never knew where he went, and he never told her, but he would be out all day until eight or nine at night, by which time he would shut himself away in his room without more than a "Hello" to her. Every time he passed by her, she felt her stomach tighten, and she tried desperately of something to say but always came up with a blank. To make her feel less inadequate, she would tell herself, Well I'm not talking to him anyway, because I'm mad at him.

In reality, she didn't want to talk to him, because she knew if she did, the floodgates would open and she would tell him everything, every little thought in her head, including the most private ones, the ones about how she felt for him, that she even kept hidden from herself. At the same time, she knew that's what she needed, because in this time of chaos and pain, he was the one person she wanted to talk to.

"I need to speak with you," he said one evening, after he'd found her in the kitchen.

"About?"

He gave her a deadpan look, indicating that he knew she knew exactly what they needed to talk about. Her insides seized up immediately. There was no way she felt prepared to talk about everything that had been swirling around in her head for the past week.

When she didn't say anything further, he said, "Don't you want to tell me why you're here? How you came to be in possession of this house?"

"I…I'm not sure I'm ready."

"That's your prerogative," Klaus said, "but I will say, for what it's worth, you have spent so much time being my therapist, listening to my problems, comforting me. It would be a sincere honor if you would allow me to be there for you in that same way."

Cami felt bright red color seep into her cheeks, and she looked away. He was turning on his heel, almost to the stairs when she said, "My grandmother died." He stopped dead, but didn't turn around. "My grandmother died, and she left me this house." He turned a little so he could look at her, but didn't move any closer.

"She left it to me because she wrote my father out of the will. And," she gave a little mirthless laugh, "you should have heard the way he talked to me when he was telling me about it. You would have killed him straight away."

Klaus walked back towards her, watching her intently. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"I haven't seen her since I was…seventeen, I think. For my high school graduation," Cami said.

"Do you feel guilty about that?"

It felt as if something had stung her in the gut. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over freely, too quickly for her to cover up. And more flowed now because she felt so ashamed to be crying in front of him, so embarrassed. "I can't talk about this with you," she said quietly. But in reality she couldn't imagine anyone else she'd rather talk about it with.

"I'm sorry I've upset you," he said. He disappeared through the sitting room for a moment and came back holding two glasses of wine. "I should not have brought it up. Perhaps let's go outside, get some fresh air."

She nodded, wiping her eyes, trying to compose herself. Slowly, she put that wall back up, the one that sealed away all her emotions concerning the matter. As Klaus stepped out onto the second-floor patio, the same one that she'd jumped from, Cami downed her glass of wine and poured herself another before joining him. They sat down together on the patio furniture, both facing out, watching the moonlight play on the ocean.

"So now it's your turn to explain," she said, not looking at him. But she could feel his eyes on her, watching her, studying her to see if she was okay. "What are you doing here?"

He looked away, back out onto the water, and he didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, he said, "I came to find you."

Cami downed another gulp of wine, and then finished the glass. She went back inside to refill in the hopes that it would give him time to come up with something more to say. Sure enough, when she sat back down, he said, "Daniel called me."

"I knew it," she said under her breath. She felt so foolish that she had started to trust him, that she had let herself be charmed by him.

"In all fairness, he only said that I hadn't sent him. I had never spoken with him before, but when he found out that you knew me, he found it prudent to give me a call."

So technically Daniel hadn't lied to her, but she still hated him for ratting her out to Klaus. But at the same time, there was a tiny part of her that was grateful for Daniel, that was grateful that he'd called Klaus. Without Daniel, she would still be alone, because she knew that she was too stubborn to admit that she had needed Klaus.

"And so you came down here to spy on me," she said. It was easier to rail against him, to be mad, than it was to be vulnerable with him.

"I came down here to make sure you're alright."

She wasn't really expecting an honest answer out of him. Surely, she thought he would say something sarcastic or deflective, anything to keep a moment of truth from coming out. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"

He rolled his eyes and she could see the wheels in his head turning, trying to find the right words to say. "I didn't know what happened, I didn't know that your grandmother had passed away. All I knew was that you were here one day and gone the next. I didn't hear from you, you just up and left, and no one had even gotten so much as a text from you in days. And so I panicked. When I heard from Daniel, when he told me where you were, I didn't know what to say, I just knew that I had to come here and make sure that you were at least still alive."

A weight seemed to have lifted from Cami's shoulders as she felt all her anger and resentment float away. After such an honest, raw answer, she couldn't be mad at him anymore. She looked at him, and she could see the fear in his eyes, that he was still so scared for her, that he wanted to help her in whatever way he could, but he didn't know how to help. She didn't know either.

Even though he should have just called her, or told her she was there instead of following her like a creeper, she knew now that it was the only way. If he had showed up any other way, she would have told him she was fine, that she didn't need him. He was smart, because he knew that too, so he waited. Knowing this now, knowing that it had to happen this way or he wouldn't be sitting there with her now, dissipated her anger.

When she looked back over at him, she could see him screwing up the courage to say something else, but instead he swallowed it. "Thank you for your concern," she said quietly. They sat there in silence, watching the water, for almost twenty minutes. She could feel his thoughts and emotions working inside him, radiating out of him like beams of energy. If this were a therapy session, he would confess everything he was thinking and feeling at that moment. But this concerned the both of them, how they were both thinking and feeling, and how those thoughts and feelings worked in relation to him and her.

Finally, he stood, not meeting her eyes. "Good night, Camille." And he left her to sit alone in the darkness of the night.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, that he couldn't hear her, she broke down in tears. She would have given anything to be able to tell him everything, to talk with him openly about all the confusing, mixed-up emotions that were swirling around inside her, but something always stopped her. It seemed that every time she opened her mouth to begin, a sarcastic comment would jump in front, or she would find herself unable to say anything at all. It was maddening, and she was mostly frustrated with herself. You're driving him away, she told herself. And that was the last thing she wanted.

If things were awkward before that night, with strained silences and longing glances that never amounted to anything, now it was worse than ever. The next day, he was gone before she'd even gone on her morning run, and he didn't come back until eleven o'clock that night. At one point, she passed him while he was in the kitchen, and he had pointedly looked at her and then looked away, saying nothing.

The next day, when she knew he was out of the house, she went back to the third floor. She sat on her knees, her legs tucked up beneath her, in front of the old coffee table, running her fingers over the dust that had collected there. She wondered what had happened to all the jigsaw puzzles that had been assembled there, if they were still in tact, if they'd been dismantled and returned to their boxes, or if they'd been thrown away altogether.

Cami stood shakily, the tears starting to come now, as she made her way to her grandmother's bedroom. She had never been in there before, not even on the occasions where she'd known that her grandmother wouldn't be there.

It looked like any other room in the house, furnished with casual yet expensive furniture with a damask bedspread and muted wallpaper. But it smelled like her, like peppermint oil and fig. Cami's legs gave out and she found herself once again sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, just like she had the last time she'd tried to come up here.

Now she felt the weight pressing in on her, not only from feeling the loss of her grandmother, but also the guilt she felt because she hadn't seen her in so long, because she hadn't spent more time with her, because this house had made her father hate her now. She cried for all of it, and it felt as if now that she'd started, she'd never be able to stop.

She jumped when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. She wiped away her eyes, looking up to see Klaus looking back at her. She realized then that she had lost all control, that there was no more hiding, no more silence between them, no more denying that she was in unspeakable pain. So she threw her arms around him, and let him hold her while she cried. She didn't care if she was scaring him, she didn't care what he thought about her now, she just needed him. And he held her, his arms a strong presence around her.

Slowly, the tears subsided, and he handed her a handkerchief for her to wipe her face. "It's going to be alright," Klaus said. She could tell from the expression on his face that he was not used to comforting people, that he wasn't sure what to say.

"Thank you," she said shakily.

"Let me cook you some dinner," he said, helping her to her feet.

"I'm not really hungry," she said as they walked down the stairs. Her stomach was in knots.

"Let me cook something. You can just have copious amounts of wine," Klaus said with a smile, his attempt at a joke. She smiled weakly in an attempt to acknowledge that, but it was tough.

"Okay."

His arm was still looped through hers as he led her to the couch in the second floor sitting room, setting her down gently as if she might break into a thousand pieces. He turned on the TV for her and handed her the remote. She left it on the the channel it was on, not bothering to change it because she knew she wouldn't really be watching. She felt the numbness set in, the feeling that someone had scooped out all her insides with a spoon, and now she was just a husk sitting on a couch.

Cami could hear Klaus in the kitchen, taking pans out of cupboards, taking things out of the fridge, moving around as he cooked. It was a comfort to her now. The other day, she had felt so alone in her emptiness but now his presence reassured her, telling her that he was there for her in the best way that he knew how.

After twenty minutes, he came and sat down next to her on the couch. "It's in the oven now, it will only be a little longer." He sat so close to her, and she felt his arm around her shoulder. Any other time, any other time they'd spent together, she knew he would have sat farther away but now the time for pretenses was over. She had let herself go in front of him, lost herself so utterly, found herself so completely vulnerable that no there was no point in him keeping his distance. She leaned back into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

When he got up to take dinner out of the oven, she felt his absence next to her as if someone had just cut her body in half. A few minutes later, he came with two dishes full of homemade macaroni and cheese. "Not one of my specialties," he admitted, "but it was the most comforting thing I could think of."

Cami still didn't really feel up to eating, but she politely took a few bites. It was rather good, she admitted, but still her stomach was churning. He brought in two glasses of whiskey. "I figured you could use something stronger than wine."

"Thanks," she said in agreement. She downed the liquor eagerly, closing her eyes as she swallowed, hoping that it would kick in soon and ease her troubles.

Klaus flipped through the channels until he found some cheesy romantic comedy. Neither of them were really going to watch it, neither of them could focus. At least for Cami, she could only focus on the warmth of his body against hers. When he had finished eating, he returned his arm around her shoulder, and she felt her stomach flutter in excitement. It would be so easy to look up at him, to move closer to him, to kiss him…

The next thing she knew, she felt herself being lifted, carried. She was stuck beneath this veil of half-sleep, somewhere in a limbo of consciousness but being unable to open her eyes to really take in what was going on. She felt the softness of a bed beneath her as the arms that held her pulled away.

Cami fought for the surface, fought to open her eyes just to see him as he was leaving her bedroom. "Wait," she called. "I need you to stay with me." If she had asked, if she had posed it as a question, she was sure he would have said no. So she said it like a demand, a needy, desperate statement. She needed him.

She saw him walk back, saw him take off his shoes by the side of the bed. The covers lifted and he crawled under them, sliding up against her, his arm around her waist as he held her to him. She knew that nothing would happen tonight— she was too tired, too drained, but his presence against her was strong and comforting. Before she fell asleep, she remembered to savor the warmth of his body, the tightness of his embrace, and how lucky she was that she had him here right now. She thought of how lucky she was that she'd been able to be vulnerable in front of him, to show true emotion, and how lucky she was that he hadn't run away this time.


	7. A Poison Tree

In the morning, she felt cozy, unmovable as the sun seeped into the room. Even breathing felt disruptive to the peace that had settled over her. So she tried to quiet her breath, still her ribcage, so she could keep the coziness here with her.

Except that her bladder was starting to scream at her. When she felt she could no longer bear it, she pulled back the covers, her skin prickling slightly as the cool air hit her, and she hurried to the bathroom.

Upon her reentry to the room, she discovered that all her pee-holding efforts had been for naught, because she had been the only person in the bed, and there was no one else to disturb. Cami felt a twinge of hurt deep in her chest, seeing the other side of the bed empty, but she told herself that she shouldn't be surprised. Klaus was probably off doing Klaus Things, whatever that meant, and he was usually gone for the day anyway.

Still, she climbed back into bed, hiding under the covers, relishing the warmth. Her hand slid across the sheets to the empty side, feeling the rumpled fabric against her palm. This was proof that he had been there, that he had slept beside her, that he had held her, and that was good enough for her. Whatever hurt she felt for him not being here when she woke up, it was washed away by just accepting that he had been there at all. Pressing her nose against the sheets, she inhaled, the scent of him filling her nostrils. And she drifted off to sleep again, still feeling his presence against her.

When Cami woke again, she yawned and stretched, checking her phone for the time. It was almost noon, and she got out of bed slowly, putting on her exercise gear and lacing up her sneakers. On her run, she took a longer route at a slower pace, taking time to just think about the previous night. He had comforted her, he had cooked for her, he had held her and watched over her while she slept. And she knew that he was not used to these things, to being there for someone, to helping with the grieving process. She was sure that to him, the grieving process did not exist because he had lost so many people, killed so many people. So for him to help her through it, to witness it and stand by her side, meant a lot to her.

As she ran, she was sure that she had a stupid grin on her face. She only wished that she could see him now, that she could thank him or hug him or kiss him. She really wanted to kiss him.

Back at the house, an idea struck her late in the evening. She decided that she should make dinner for him, since he had made dinner for her the night before. She would make something good, and they would drink some wine, and talk about what was on their mind, and if they maybe kissed a little at the end of the night, well, wouldn't that be perfect?

Cami wasn't a very impressive cook, she really only knew how to make one thing really well: gumbo. It was an old family recipe, one that she'd seen her grandmother make every summer that she'd spent at the beach house. It seemed fitting now that Cami should make it, make it in her grandmother's memory in the house that the old woman had left her.

She found the recipe card in a drawer by the stove and set to work. She already had most of the ingredients, and the ones she didn't have, she decided the recipe could survive without. All the while she was cooking, she smiled to herself like a lovesick fool, thinking of how impressed Klaus would be when he got back to the house.

As the gumbo finished cooking, she had a glass of wine. Klaus wasn't back yet, so she lowered the heat on the stove to a simmer so the gumbo could stay warm until he got there. But six-thirty turned to seven o'clock, and then seven turned to eight, and still no Klaus. She texted him, Where are you? I have a surprise with a smiley faced emoji at the end. And she waited.

By nine o'clock, Cami had put the pot into the fridge, the food inside untouched. Her stomach had been churning for so long in anticipation for his arrival, or even a response from him, that she no longer felt hungry. Even after she'd retreated to her room to stew angrily and read her book, she did not hear him come into the house.

On the one hand, Cami was hard on herself, feeling foolish and stupid for expecting him to be home or even to respond to her text message. But on the other, she felt hot, seething anger towards him. He had spent the night with her, seen her at her most vulnerable, held her while she slept, and he couldn't even be bothered to respond to a text from her? He couldn't even be bothered to stop…whatever he did during the day to come back to the house?

Sleep did not find her that night. She laid awake in bed, listening keenly for the sound of the front door opening, for the sound of soft footsteps in the kitchen. And yet she heard nothing, and soon anger turned to worry. He'd always come back to the house at the end of the night before, and she wondered if something was wrong. She wondered if he was in danger. Even though all reason told her that he was the most powerful, ruthless vampire of all time, she still worried that some impossible scenario was playing out, and that he was dead.

At some point, Cami dozed off for a little while, but her sleep was restless. In the morning, she left her room in search of any sign that he had returned. She went downstairs, looking around cautiously, listening. She didn't hear him, and something told her that she was alone.

The door to his room was closed. Again, she sensed that she was the only one in the house, but she felt it would be impolite if she didn't knock, just in case. After a long moment with no answer, she turned the knob and walked into the room.

It looked exactly as it had when she used to stay there as a child. She could not spot any obvious difference, no indication that Klaus had been there at all. There was no duffel bag, the bed was made perfectly, the towels still folded and seemingly untouched on the bathroom counter, which she could see from the doorway. It was as if he'd never even been here.

Cami's heart sank. He's gone. She knew he hadn't come to the house empty-handed, he'd come with some clothes in a weekend bag. That bag was nowhere in sight. Her brain couldn't make sense of it all, and she found herself thinking, How could he leave after a night like the other night? And How could he leave when he knows how much I need him now?

She backed out of the room slowly, closing the door behind her. Her brain was now in denial mode, questioning if he'd even been there at all, if he really had slept beside her that night. Her eyes scanned across the first floor sitting room before something caught her attention. On the coffee table sat a splayed book, one that certainly did not belong to her.

Cami came closer, picking up the book. It was a volume of poetry by William Blake, turned to a poem entitled "A Poison Tree."

I was angry with my friend;

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I waterd it in fears,

Night & morning with my tears:

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night.

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole,

When the night had veild the pole;

In the morning glad I see;

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Klaus had been here, now she was sure of it. And he had still left her. She tried to reconcile these two concepts; it was so much easier to pretend that he had never been there and she had imagined the whole thing than it was to accept that he had bailed on her. It was stinging her, right in her chest, and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

The wall came up inside her and suddenly she felt nothing. She pictured her feelings for him, her gratitude towards him for his support, as a box that she could seal away, never to be opened again. If she kept picturing it this way, she could almost feel it working, feel her emotions being boxed up and hidden somewhere far from the forefront of her mind.

Running back up the stairs, she grabbed her phone from her room and dialed Daniel's number. "Can you come over?"

"I'll be there in fifteen," he said, his voice steady and even.

When she opened the front door, she found Daniel on her stoop, his brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why?" she said, the last word coming out almost an octave higher than the first two.

"You look…" he searched for the right word, "harassed."

"I'm fine," Cami insisted. She stood aside to let him in. "Are you hungry?"

"Uh…yeah, I guess I could eat something," Daniel said, following Cami as she padded up the stairs and into the kitchen. She took the pot of gumbo out of the fridge, spooning out a generous amount into two bowls, popping them into the microwave.

"Gumbo?" he said. "At ten-thirty in the morning?"

She shrugged. "Why not? I made it myself from scratch. Might as well eat it while it's good."

"Okay," he said, still seeming unsure. But when the microwave dinged, and Cami handed him the warm bowl, he didn't protest.

"Let's go sit outside," she said. They went out onto the second floor patio, the sun warm on their skin.

"So what have you been up to lately? I hadn't heard from you in a while," he said.

Cami felt her cheeks go pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I got a little…distracted."

"With your personal business?"

"Yes," she said.

"You should've told me sooner that your 'personal business' was Klaus Mikaelson."

Ice filled her veins and her stomach seized. She didn't know how Daniel knew that Klaus had been there, or what he thought about the situation, but she could hear a twinge of jealous accusation in his voice. "I didn't know he was coming," she admitted truthfully. "But now he's gone." Saying it out loud made it feel so real, and she felt her stomach turn over. She set down her bowl of gumbo, suddenly unable to eat it.

"Good," Daniel said. "He makes me nervous."

"Why?"

"Wherever Klaus Mikaelson goes, death and destruction follow in his wake. I was surprised to hear from you again, actually. I thought you'd be dead for sure." Daniel studied her startled reaction before he hastily added, "But I'm glad you're not."

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. She would have given anything in the world to not have to talk about Klaus anymore, it was too painful now, knowing and realizing that he was gone.

Daniel took a long, deep breath in. "You once asked me how I got turned," he said. Cami nodded and waited for him to continue. "It was my college girlfriend. I went to school on the mainland. She was everything to me, at the time, anyway. One night, we had been out drinking, and I'd had one too many. I got down on my knees and begged her to change me, and it was really pitiful, actually. I was crying and everything.

"But she said no. It was the first time I'd ever asked her to do it, and we'd been going out for a little over a year, and I'd known what she was for almost eight months. But I'd never asked her before then. So she said no, and I played it off like it was going to be okay."

He paused for a moment, not looking at her, before he took in another long, ragged breath. "She went to bed and even though I was already quite drunk, I drank a handle of vodka. She woke up to the sound of me choking on my own puke. She tried doing CPR, but my breathing had already stopped. So she had no choice but to give me her blood.

"The next morning, all her stuff was gone. She never spoke to me again," Daniel said.

"Why are you telling me this?" Cami asked softly. She didn't want to sound ungrateful to him for sharing the story, she just wanted to know why he felt that now was a good time to tell it.

He looked over at her. "I got scared when I found out that Klaus was here. I'll admit that I got scared, and so I stayed away and I left you alone. But even being away from you for that short period of time made me see that I need to be brave, and I want to stick around. I want to spend more time with you, and get to know you more. So I wanted to share my turning story so that you could see that I mean it, that I trust you, that I'm not scared anymore."

Daniel set down his bowl of gumbo on the patio table, taking Cami's hand in his. He leaned in close to her, kissing her once on the lips, and she let him. She knew that he was being sincere, that he really did want to get to know her better and spend more time with her. And she was going to let him, because she had this void to fill now, and she knew it was unlikely that he would just up and disappear one morning. She kissed him back, her hands curling up in his hair, holding him to her, feeling a warmth inside her that told her that Daniel was good, that he would stick around.


	8. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Waking up beside him always left her feeling safe, looked after. But every morning, when she would stretch and rub the last dregs of sleep away from her eyes, for half a second she would catch herself hoping that the sleeping figure next to her would be Klaus.

Cami's days now consisted of sex, of boat parties, of heavy drinking, and laughing at inane jokes that Daniel's friends made. Daniel treated her like a princess, always asking if she was doing okay, how she was holding up, and she always appreciated it. Sometimes she wished that she could have a minute to herself again, she was starting to feel a bit smothered by him. Every time she sought to have some alone time, it seemed like he wanted to make her dinner or take her somewhere or have someone over. She didn't want to hurt his feelings by saying anything, so she dealt with it even as she felt herself becoming increasingly more irritated with him.

By now, she had been living in the house for two months. She tried to picture her New Orleans life, her apartment untouched, the bar now attended by someone else in her absence. She was sure she hadn't done the dishes that were sitting in her apartment sink before she'd left, and that everything would need a good dusting when she got back. Maybe she could get Vincent to look in on things, make sure no one had broken in or anything like that. Then again, she hadn't talked to him since she'd left New Orleans. She was sure by now that Klaus had spread the word around to anyone who might've needed to know about it, but still no one had really followed up with her about it. Even Will had eventually given up on texting her and had just gone radio silent.

Thinking about New Orleans made her miss it, and she always visualized the city as a sectioned space in her heart that now sat vacant. It wasn't just the city, it was the people who lived there, and she missed them all. She missed her friends.

Still, when she thought of returning, whenever she sat down to the computer to book a return flight, she could never click through to confirm it. Something held her back.

And so she went about her island life, trying to forget that she had a whole separate life somewhere else, something that she had abandoned so utterly, something that she wasn't sure she could return to.

As the days passed, though, she began to think more and more of how it felt like Daniel was playing house with her, like he was always around her, always hovering and asking if she was coping alright. Cami grew to resent his frequent check-ins, they had started to make her feel like he thought she was too fragile, when in fact she felt she was growing stronger by the day. As more time passed, she felt more and more at peace with her grandmother's passing. Whenever she thought about it, she thought of the night she had gone into her grandmother's room, and she thought of how Klaus had comforted her. A strange aching sensation always filled her chest whenever she thought about it. And then she would remember that he had up and left her, that he hadn't so much as sent a text or left a note or called or anything, he was just gone. That always brought her back to reality and reminded her that she was unbelievably angry at him.

One evening, she was laying beside Daniel, watching him watch her. "You look like you want to say something," she said as his fingers lazily played with her hair.

"I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you."

She studied his face, knowing him well enough now to start interpreting his expressions. "Is that all?"

"Well, I always feel grateful to be with you, especially now that… To be honest, well, I thought that you and Klaus were…" He trailed off at the end, letting silence fill in between them.

"Oh. No," Cami quickly covered, although she could feel her skin flushing with warmth.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Well, I know that now, but at the time, especially since he had come all the way from Nola to check on you. I found that kinda weird at first, but now I know better. I was just jealous. But I think it's made me appreciate my time with you even more. When he called me and told me he was going back to New Orleans—"

"Wait, he told you he was leaving?" Cami said, sitting up suddenly. Her mind started racing a million miles a minute, but one thought stood out: Why would he tell Daniel and not tell me?

"Yeah," Daniel said casually, as if it was no big deal. "He had called to give me a head's up."

"He called to give you a head's up," Cami repeated slowly.

"Yeah," Daniel said, the slight lilt at the end of the syllable making it sound more like a question.

"He called to let you know he was going back to New Orleans, and yet he couldn't be bothered to even tell me, or leave a note, nothing?"

"I thought he…I don't know, I just assumed he had said goodbye to your or something," Daniel said, his tone apologetic.

Cami felt a panic rise up in her, a combination of her racing thoughts and a bubbling anger towards Klaus. She could not comprehend that Klaus had told Daniel and not her that he was leaving. And that Daniel hadn't said anything. Because as her thoughts started to come together, it seemed like Klaus had called Daniel only to tell him it was safe to pursue her. Which made Daniel seem like a coward, and made Klaus seem like…she had many words come to mind at that point. Why would he want to let another man have her? She thought that Klaus liked her…

"Well. Well," Cami struggled to form coherent words and string them together into sentences. "Well, did he say why he had left? He literally didn't say anything to me. I just woke up one morning and he was gone."

"He said if you asked why, that you would have to ask him in person."

She leapt out of bed then, knowing what she had to do. It was partly that she had reached her breaking point with Daniel, that she did not see the relationship going anywhere. But mainly she was now fueled by anger. Anger that Daniel had not told her this vital piece of information, anger that he had been so cowardly that he had had to wait for Klaus to leave the island before he would spend time with her again, anger that Klaus had left so suddenly and now expected her to do the same. If that was his intention, to make her so furious that she would come back to New Orleans just to punch him in the face, then it was working.

"Cami? Where are you going?"

She stormed out of the room, into the sitting area, fetching her computer. Online, she booked a plane ticket for the first flight in the morning. When she came back, she found Daniel still in bed but sitting up, a look of extreme concern on his face. "What's going on?"

"You have to go," Cami said strongly, trying to make her voice sound even although it came out jagged and full of nervous energy.

Daniel stood and walked over to her, his hands on her shoulder. "Babe, you're talking crazy."

"No, you really need to go. I'm going back to New Orleans in the morning."

"Cami," he said loudly, in that You're Being Unreasonable sort of way, like a child says Mom! when they think she's being unfair.

For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a tenderness for him as he guided her, hands still on her shoulders, to sit back down on the edge of the bed. She could see the panic and concern on his face. "What is going on?"

She took a minute to collect herself, to put her thoughts in order, to calm the bubbling nerves that were starting to make her shake. After a moment, she gathered the courage to look him in the eye. "Daniel, the time I've been spending with you has been incredible—"

"Skip the platitudes, please," he said quietly, cutting her off. "Just cut to the chase and tell me what's going on."

"I need to go back to New Orleans. And I don't know when I'll be coming back to Kiawah."

"Did I do something wrong?" Daniel asked.

Cami thought for a minute about lying, but she knew she owed him more than that. He had, after all, swooped in to pick up the pieces after Klaus left. But Cami knew now, and she could admit to herself, that if Klaus wanted her to come after him that she would be there as fast as she could. "It's less about you and more about him."

Daniel couldn't meet her eyes then. "Okay," he said after a minute. "I appreciate the honesty."

"I have a flight first thing in the morning."

Daniel's eyes widened; apparently he hadn't been expecting to be kicked out so soon. Maybe he was hoping that she'd be leaving in a few days, and that she would somehow change her mind in that time and they could go back to their island life together. But Cami knew that leaving any later would only be postponing the inevitable— she would be leaving one way or another.

He stood, glancing around the room, looking disoriented. She could tell that it hadn't set in for him yet, that he was still sort of in shock. They both knew that this hadn't been anything super serious, but she could see that he had expected to have more time with her. Guilt started to fill her then. She had been so excited and anxious about leaving that there hadn't been room for any other emotions until that point. She had never wanted to hurt Daniel, he had been so sweet to her. But when she weighed the options, staying here with him versus going back to New Orleans and back to Klaus, she knew what needed to happen.

Cami went to the kitchen to get some air while Daniel grabbed his clothes and various other personal belongings. After about ten minutes, he emerged, walking down the stairs while she trailed behind him.

He stood in the doorway facing her, his face set now with resolve. She could see him struggling to keep it together, and the guilt washed over her, making tears well up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she said, now crying in earnest. "I'm so sorry. I know this is sudden, and I'm really sorry about that. I did— I do like you," she corrected herself, "I just need…"

"You just need him," Daniel said, staring at the floor. "I suspected there had been something going on between you, but whenever I asked, you denied it. But I think maybe it was hard for you to admit to yourself, at least until now. So I understand." She studied his face, feeling like he was just saying that he understood when he really didn't. But she also felt that he would come to understand eventually, even if he didn't now, and she appreciated that all the same.

"If you're ever on the island again, will you look me up?"

"I promise," Cami said. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked down the front steps, going into his car, and drove away.

At five in the morning, she woke up and stuffed all her belongings into a duffel bag that she'd found in the hall closet, realizing just how much she'd bought since coming down here. She had only initially come with a few changes of clothes, a funeral outfit, and her toiletries, but now she had swimsuits, new clothes, and worthless tchotchkes that she'd bought on a whim at one or another of the tourist traps. She didn't care that she would have to check a bag at the airport, she just wanted to make sure she wouldn't forget anything. She didn't know when she'd be coming back.

Five minutes before she was going to leave, she went up to the third floor. She felt she had reached the point now where she wouldn't immediately burst into tears just by setting foot up there. Cami stood in the doorway to her grandmother's room, taking a final look around. "Goodbye, Grandma," she said quietly. She closed the door behind her as she left.

She took a last look around at the house, taking it in. With every room that she passed through, she was flooded with memories that had happened there. This is where Daniel and I had sex for the first time; this is where I spent the whole day reading in the sun and got a horrible sunburn; this is where I sat watching TV with Klaus and he put his arm around me. Despite the terrible circumstances that had brought her there, she would miss the place.

She drove to the airport, turned the car back in to the rental company, tried not to pass out when she saw the astronomical bill for having a rental car for two months. And as she boarded the plane, sat down in her seat, fastened her seatbelt, she couldn't help but feel this feeling of excitement growing in the pit of her stomach at the thought of going home, of seeing Klaus.


	9. I Would Have Found You

On the plane ride, she thought of all the different ways she could tell him off. She stewed, imagining every way the conversation could go and coming up with counterarguments. I mean, for starters, where did he get off leaving with no warning, and then expecting me to come running just because he said he'd have an explanation for himself if I asked him in person? Granted, she actually had come running when she had found this out, but she had an explanation for that too: I only came so I could kick your a**.

The plane landed at Louis Armstrong, and she felt this overwhelming sense of calm wash over her just from being back on Louisiana soil. It felt comforting that no matter what would go down between her and Klaus, she would be home now, and back with her own friends in her own apartment, working at the bar again if they would have her back.

Her first stop was back at the apartment only to drop off her things. Indeed, there were unwashed dishes in the sink that she'd sooner throw out than try to scrub clean. But she would have to deal with that later.

She dialed his number, not really expecting him to pick up. "You've reached Klaus Mikaelson. I'd strongly recommend that you do not leave a message here, but nevertheless I'm sure you will disregard my request and do so anyway after the beep." She'd hoped that he would pick up and they could arrange a meeting in a public place, where she would be less likely to punch him in the face, and then hopefully he would be less likely to snap her neck like a twig in retaliation. It was really wishful thinking though, as her suspicions had been confirmed when he hadn't picked up. She had figured she would have to do things the hard way, she would just have to show up at the compound and hope he was there. Or wait until he showed up.

A cab took her there, although she probably could have walked, she was just so exhausted from waking up so early and from using all her energy to stew while she was on the plane. As she stood at the front door of the compound now, her hand closed in a fist poised to knock, nerves bubbled up in her stomach. She wondered what Klaus would have to say for himself. And although she had spent hours at this point rehearsing what she would say in response, she could not possibly fathom what she would say now.

Elijah answered the door when she knocked. "Camille," he said, a tone of surprise in his voice. "It's nice to see you, as always. I heard of the passing of your grandmother, I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," she said. "Is Klaus there? I need to speak with him. It's urgent," she added, hoping Elijah would take that as a hint that she didn't have time for small talk with him.

"Yes, he's in his room. You may go up and see him."

She brushed past Elijah and into the foyer, up the stairs and up to Klaus's room. Responses and angry words started to flood her mind now, and she was sure she would have a million things to say to him as soon as she slapped him across his stupid face first.

He was standing on the balcony, looking out at the city, his face serene and calm. Cami lost her breath when she saw him, and everything she had planned to say to him, starting with "Where do you get off?" just fell away.

It took a few seconds before he realized that she was there, standing stock still in his doorway staring at him. When he saw her, he smiled, and she felt like she couldn't get a breath in her. Her stomach was seizing, and she couldn't look away from him. All that ran through her mind was that she had been so right to come back, to leave the island and house and Daniel behind, to come back for Klaus.

"Camille," he said, coming closer to her so that he was standing a few feet away. "I was wondering when you would show up."

This comment seemed to snap her back to reality, and she felt the anger return. She thought about slapping him, she really did, but she just didn't have it in her anymore, even though she was still furious at him. "Explain yourself," she said through clenched teeth.

"How do you mean?"

Now the anger was bubbling over in her, and she could not control herself or hold herself back from the tirade that was threatening to burst forth from her. "Why did you just up and leave with no warning or note or text or anything? You were just gone and I couldn't believe that after you had comforted me and helped me that night that you would just leave like that. I couldn't believe that you would just leave me alone in my bed like I was some common one night stand to you. And I can't believe that you wouldn't say anything, you would just be gone when I still needed you."

Klaus looked taken aback for a second; he had clearly not been expecting her to be so forthcoming or direct, because even though she was often angry with him, she so rarely told him exactly what was on her mind in its entirety. "And," she added quickly, "I can't believe that you talked to Daniel about leaving, and not to me. And that you just expected me to drop everything and come running in the hopes that you'd give me some sort of explanation to all this."

"Well, in all fairness, my love, I think that's exactly what you did, isn't it?" he said, grinning crookedly.

"Don't do that!" she practically shouted. "Don't do that. Please don't deflect right now and don't do that smirking thing and don't avoid answering me. Just tell me because I'm so mad at you right now and I want there to be some sort of explanation for it all because I think you owe me that."

He took a long moment before he answered. "I left because I…was afraid of growing closer to you." She could tell it was taking a lot of effort on his part to admit this. "But after I took some time to think about it, I knew that I had done the wrong thing, and that I needed to make it up to you somehow. So I told Daniel that if you ever asked for an explanation, you would need to get it from me in person, thus ensuring two things. Number one, that I would be able to apologize for leaving so abruptly. And number two, that you would come back to New Orleans when you were ready. That you would come home."

It was taking Cami's brain a long time to process all of this information. It was hard to comprehend that he was being this honest and direct with her, that he had admitted that he had been scared, that he was wrong, that he wanted her to come after him. "And what if I hadn't?"

"Then I would have found you. One way or another, I would have gotten myself back to you. I will always find you, Camille, as long as I know you still want me to."

He was standing so close to her now, and she felt the sudden urge to run. She had been running from him for so long, she had been hiding from the truth. That night that he had comforted her, that night that he had slept beside her in her bed, they had gotten so close to admitting that there was something between them after all, but they had not gotten this close before. Now was the first time that they were saying everything out loud, and it was terrifying to her.

It would be so easy to turn around, to just walk out the door and leave. But he had never been so honest with her, or so upfront with his feelings. He was always concealing them, deflecting, trying to keep her at arm's length, but now it seemed he was spilling everything. And Cami so desperately wanted to open the floodgates and spill everything too.

She could see him now as she had never seen him before, not Klaus Mikaelson, Fearsome Hybrid, but Niklaus, someone vulnerable. Human, even.

Her hand reached up and cupped his face, her thumb tracing along his lower lip. That constant war within her was coming to the surface as she fought with herself, wondering if she should just get on with it and kiss him or if she should break away, if someone should disengage like they always did before things got too serious. She felt his warm breath on the pad of her thumb, and she shivered as she felt the very edge of his tongue touch it as it ran along the inside of his lip.

And then suddenly her hand was moving away from his mouth, up into his hair as she pulled him to her, her lips meeting his with a gentle force that sent a jolt through her. His lower lip was between her lips, and she held still for a moment, her eyes closed, trying to memorize every single thing that was happening— the warmth of his lips, the slight prickle of his stubble against her skin, the musky scent that filled her nostrils from being so close to him.

For a moment, he stood totally frozen, unresponsive and rigid as she ended the kiss softly, pulling back to look at him. She ran her hands through his hair and studied his face, his eyes still closed for a second before he opened them again. And she smiled hopefully at him; she didn't care that he hadn't really kissed her back, she just felt indescribably happy that she had gotten to kiss him at all, after all this time of imagining how it would be.

His arms wound around her waist then, and he pulled her body flush against him as his lips met hers again. He kissed her hungrily, inhaling sharply as he did so, his brow furrowed. She kissed back, her mouth moving with his as his lips parted slightly. His tongue tentatively ran along her lower lip and she opened her mouth more to allow his tongue to edge past her teeth.

Cami's brain had completely shut off now. How many times had she imagined a scene just like this, how many times had she pictured kissing him? And finally, it was happening in real life. She couldn't think about anything besides how perfect it was, how perfect he was.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her, her hands playing with his curls. His breathing was becoming more and more ragged with each passing second, and Cami's skin felt like it was on fire. They stood there in Klaus's room, kissing for what felt like an eternity, and she never wanted it to end.

His lips left hers for a moment to trail sweet, lazy kisses down her neck. Her eyes closed and her jaw dropped, and she knew that if he kept doing that, her clothes would be in a pile on the floor in about three seconds.

Klaus's lips moved back up her neck, catching her mouth with his once again as he kissed her deeply, his tongue running along hers. She was feeling more and more breathless with every moment that went by, and she was afraid that she might pass out or that her knees would buckle and she would swoon right there. This time, she broke the kiss and moved her lips down the skin of his neck, occasionally sucking at the skin there and relishing the small gasps that came from his as a response.

His fingers closed in her hair and he pulled her away, his eyes staring at her hungrily, like he would not be able to restrain himself from having her. Go on then, she thought. Please.

His mouth crashed against hers once more and she felt herself moving backwards to the bed where he laid her down gently, pulling away for a second. Klaus took his own shirt off, and Cami felt a moment of disappointment, hoping that she'd be the one to get to do that. But when she stared at the long, bare expanse of his torso, the broadness of his shoulders, the taut skin of his stomach, she forgot all about it.

Immediately after he'd joined her on the bed, she pulled him on top of her, her hands running all over his back. His breath was hot against her ear as he took the lobe into his mouth, toying with it gently between his teeth. His lips returned to her mouth and he kissed her slowly then, deeply, and she savored the taste of his mouth as it moved against hers.

He sat up after a long moment, taking her with him as she straddled his lap. His hands wound their way into the hem of her shirt, tugging it up and over her head as he tossed it onto the floor beside the bed. Nerves were starting to get the better of her then as she trembled beneath his touch when he ran his hands along her curves.

"Are you alright?" he whispered close to her ear. When she nodded vigorously, he asked, "Shall I keep going, then?"

"Please," she said, her voice coming out low and husky.

He kissed her again, slowly and tenderly before he kissed down her neck, occasionally sucking the skin there between his teeth. Cami moaned softly, and he smiled against her skin. They were still sitting up, she was straddling his lap, as his hands began to wander. One reached around her back, dipping in to the back pocket of her jeans, while the other wound around to her front and cupped her breast over her bra.

She moaned louder at this, her breathing ragged and coming out in short huffs. An aching between her legs was growing painful at an alarmingly fast rate, and she wasn't sure how long she could hold on without completely ripping his clothes off.

Klaus slid her bra strap off her shoulder as he kissed at her collarbone. He pulled the bra cup away from her breast, his thumb running over her already-hard nipple. Again, Cami was struck with the knowledge that she didn't think she was going to behave herself for much longer. She spread her legs wider across his lap in the hopes that she could get some relief for the aching that was growing there.

Unhooking her bra, he slowly took it off her, his fingers trailing along her shoulders and arms as he did so. He laid her back so that she was underneath him once more. She relished the warmth of his chest against hers, the musky scent of his skin filling her nose. She rocked her hips against his, relishing the small friction it produced but knowing it was nowhere near enough to satisfy her.

Her fingers fumbled to unbuckle his belt and undo the fly of his jeans. Eventually, she accomplished both tasks, pushing his pants over his hips as he worked them the rest of the way off, adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor. She could feel his hardness against her hip as he kissed her once more and she ran her fingernails down his back.

He undid the button of her jeans and pulled down the zipper, his hand dipping below the waistband of her underwear. His long fingers teased her for what felt to her like an eternity before she felt one go inside her. He watched her expression hungrily as he added another finger and she rolled her head back on the pillow, her mouth open in a silent "O."

His fingers worked inside her for only a few minutes before she gripped his wrist, stopping him. She pushed her jeans and underwear down, kicking them off so that she was now completely bare in front of him. Her hand reached for his boxer briefs, pushing them off his hips as he did the rest until he too was naked before her.

Cami took him into one hand, stroking his hard length as he moaned softly, kissing her neck. With her free hand, she grasped his wrist again, taking the two fingers that had been inside her and running her tongue along them. "Tell me you want me," she demanded, her voice low, her lips red and swollen from kissing.

"I want you, Camille. So badly." His hand was cupping her face as he stared at her, his eyes dark and clouded with lust. "Can I have you? Please." The last word was tense, his jaw tight and she could see that he cared so much for her and that he needed her just as much as she needed him.

"Yes," she said.

He pulled away from her and reached across the bed to the nightstand, opening the top drawer and extracting a condom. After he had put it on, he kissed her deeply, situating himself between her hips.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pushed inside her and they cried out in unison from the sheer pleasure of it. She held him to her, her hands digging into his back as he began to rock against her.

Thoughts began to creep back into Cami's head, and she could distinguish some of them. Most were, I knew that this was the right choice, I knew I was supposed to come back, I knew that he and I were supposed to end up together, I knew that he was right and that one way or another we would have found each other. The other thoughts that filled her now were just, Oh god yes, more, pleasepleaseplease, oh god.

They rolled over so that she was on top of him, pressing down on him with increasing force. She had known that she wouldn't last long, but it didn't matter, she just needed this agony to end. She listened to his moans and could tell that he was close too. "Please," she whispered under her breath.

Klaus turned her over again so that once more he was on top of her. He rocked into her harder with each thrust. "Do you want me to make you cum?" he said close to her ear, his voice ragged and interspersed with moans.

"Please," she repeated, this time in more of a whine. "Please."

He gripped her hips hard and rocked against her with increasing force and speed. With each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the edge of immense pleasure, and from the sound of his moans, it seemed like Klaus was there too.

And then they were both crying out, heads thrown back in unison. Cami's body was flooded with warmth, her back arched off the bed beneath him, her eyes rolled so far back that she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to open them again.

After a long moment, after they had both come down from their climaxes, he rolled away but maintained a hold on her hand, his fingers laced through hers. She nestled into his side, suddenly being struck by the similarity that this position had to when he'd slept in her bed that night on Kiawah.

She wondered to herself why they couldn't have started something then. But she remembered that she had been too vulnerable then, too emotionally bereft to initiate anything. And she knew that if he had stayed with her on the island then, they would have settled in to a routine and continued their endless tap dance around each other. No, she knew now that it had to happen this way. Because now she could see that he was right, that one way or another they would have found each other but that it wasn't meant to happen that night on the island.

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You have no idea how long I've been thinking about how this would happen," he said quietly.

She blushed and giggled, not sure she was willing to admit that she'd wondered the exact same thing. "I thought maybe something could have happened that night on Kiawah, but I know the moment wasn't right."

He took her chin in his hand, making her look at him. "You're right, it wasn't. And I know I hurt you in leaving, and I took a big gamble by doing it. But I knew that you would always come back to me. Or that I would have found you some other way. Because in this world of horrors and monsters and death, I know that one good thing exists here, and it's me and you. One way or another, I truly believe, despite all the chaos that surrounds us at all times, that there's something like fate at work here. I was always supposed to meet you."

This kind of talk was frightening her, not because he was being too serious, but because once again he was being surprisingly vulnerable and honest. And that told her that he truly believed what he was saying, which made her believe it too. It didn't matter now if she would ever go back to the island because she had a home right here in this city. With him.

[A/N: Thus concludes I Will Always Find You. Hope you all enjoyed! It seems many of the readers have enjoyed my Daniel character, and I might include him in a future story if you like! Don't forget to read, favorite, follow, review, etc. Thanks for staying tuned xoxo- lordfartquad]


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